


Worlds Combined

by Reiya_Wakayama



Series: Worlds Combined [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Language, M/M, Magic, Poison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:51:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 62,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5393237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reiya_Wakayama/pseuds/Reiya_Wakayama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For generations, Humans and Druids have been at war, but with the promise of a treaty, hope is high for a better future and now, as the Druid ambassador makes himself known in the human court, can they keep him alive long enough for the treaty to be finalized.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't...why did I...I'm a derp. this story has been finished for a long time. I even posted it on FF.net, but for some reason I never posted it here. GAH! Well, enjoy my forgotten fic. XD
> 
> ~*~
> 
> The Druids are portrayed in this story like elves I guess, or some humanoid creature of fantasy. The religion of Avalon is based around the idea that all things are reincarnated. Thus many of the practices that will be mentioned in this story will be based around past lives and such.

“My Lord, My Lady, I am here to escort him.” The knight bowed low to the three in the room. The royal family of Camelot stood at the end of the throne room, talking lowly to each other.

 

Uther Pendragon bent forward to kiss his five year old son on the forehead. His short ash blond hair was swept back off his forehead and complemented the red of his cloak and tunic. Ygraine Pendragon, his wife and mother of the boy, shed her tears openly, hugging her son tightly to her chest.

 

Their son, Arthur Pendragon, was unsure of what was going on, but he kept his hand fisted in his mother’s long, pale blond hair as he sensed her sadness and knew something was wrong.

 

“Oh Arthur, I am going to miss you. Uther, is there no way we may go with him?” she asked desperately.

 

“I am sorry, my love, but we must remain here to rule Camelot. He will be protected always by two knights as body guards, this is the best I can do. He now must leave, for he is to become our ambassador among the Druid people.”

 

“I just wish I could be there with him. I won’t be able to see him grow up and he’ll be so alone without human children his age to play with.”

 

“He will be fine and he will have Druid children to play with. You know we agreed to do this when we made our peace treaty with the Druid people. He must go to live among them and learn their ways as one will be sent to live among us when he comes back. For now we must be patient and hope for the best. We will send him letters often to make sure he doesn’t forget either,” Uther said this with conviction.

 

She set her son down on the marble floor. “There is one more thing I need to give you Arthur.” She pulled off a necklace from around her neck, the silver chain running through a hoop on the silver locket. “So you will always know we love you and so you will know us when you return.” She opened it to show him a picture of all three of them, painted in perfect detail for so small a picture.

 

“Mother?” Arthur finally asked aloud. She just smiled a bittersweet smile, bending down to kiss him on the forehead before she stood and took a step back.

 

“I am ready. It is time to go Arthur, time to leave for your new home.” Sir Leon stepped forward, holding out a hand free of its gauntlet. Arthur took it, and started to walk away, but continued to look back as he left the room.

 

~*~

 

The journey to Druid lands took ten days of travel. Arthur for the most part took it in stride, thinking it one big game or adventure with only a few lonely moments as he looked back the way they had come hoping to see his mother and father, even his adoptive sister Morgana riding after them. But no one ever came. It was just him and his guard and two body guards, Sir Leon and Sir Owain.

 

The shift from Camelot lands to Druid lands was gradual and didn’t register to any until the land started to become even wilder. Trees growing larger than they did in Camelot forests, large creatures of myth crossing their paths during the day and night: unicorns, dryads, a lone basilisk on the hunt, and once as the sun was almost done setting and in the distance through the trees, they could make out a mountain as they watched a shadow detached itself from the looming rock to take to the air, shooting flames from it gaping maw of a mouth as it shrieked its defiance of night’s hold on the world, flames glinting off of the dragon’s scales as it soared even higher before at last landing back on the mountain.

 

They were on the Druid’s capital city before they even noticed it; it was so well hidden among the trees and underbrush. They were stopped when cloaked figures appeared before them, pikes held before them.

 

One stepped forward, drawing his hood back to look up at the group of humans, his eyes glowing slightly in the dim forest light. “I, Glavien of the Highbranch clan, welcome you Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot to Avlin, the capital of the Druid lands and wish that your stay here will be full of blessings and peaceful times.” He bowed low to them and the warriors behind him did the same, standing to attention and bowing low at the waist.

 

“Thank you,” Arthur said to him, a small nervous smile on his face.

 

“Come than, and only those we have permitted to enter Avlin as your body guard will follow. The rest may return to Camelot and know that no creature shall attack you unless provoked.” They nodded, and with little hindrance, turned their horses around and headed back the way they came, to bring news to his parents that they had delivered him safely.

 

“Are you ready, Arthur?” Leon leaned closer to Arthur, noticing his nervous fidgeting.

 

“Yes, I am,” Arthur said with his voice steady. Leon nodded, and pulling on the lead reins of Arthur’s pony, followed the clocked figures as they wove their way through the trees spreading out to encircle them, Owain following behind Arthur.

 

There was no warning as they entered the city proper. One minute they were in murky shade under large hulking trees and the next they were stepping onto a large sunlit ledge, letting them see Avlin spread out below them. It spread for miles, rivers flowing and connecting to create channels that fed fields and gave water to any who had need of it. All the building were of wood and stone, each material interweaving to create a seamless look that could only be the product of magic.

 

As they watched, people turned to look up at where they stood, watching as the Ambassador of the Humans made his first appearance among the Druid people. Glavien turned to look at them. “Your new home is there, seated near to our Temple of Avalon. There you will be taught our ways and learn all you can of us for the next fifteen years. After you will be free to go back to your home with our own ambassador.”

 

Arthur looked and could make out the large building that was to be his new home. It was four stories tall, with terraces and huge windows open to the sun and wind. It was warm looking with flowers and plants everywhere. It wasn’t like home, with nothing but cold stone walls and barren pathways. The only plants were outside the walls of the castle, either in the Royal Gardens or the city itself and further outside the walls.

 

He let a small smile ease over his features, but said nothing. “If you are ready, your highness, we will take to your new home.” Glavien nodded to the guards that remained with Arthur. Leon nodded for him to continue and Arthur nodded back, trying to put a brave face on when he really felt bewildered.

 

He was led down the sloping path, riding down the main eastern road towards his new home. As he passed, people stared, some bowing, or nodding, a few even threw flowers at him. There were a few who turned away in disgust or mistrust of a human among their people. It couldn’t be helped, but he ignored them.

 

~*~

 

Upon arrival at his new home, he was greeted by a short slightly plump woman. Her long black hair was held back with pins and her long trailing robe was of the finest quality. But even though she was dressed as nobility, she still knelt down next to Arthur when he dismounted and hugged him.

 

“Welcome Arthur, to my home. I hope you will enjoy it here.” His smile was a little watery when he looked at her, but he still nodded. “I would have introduced my son to you, but at the moment, he is hiding.” Arthur looked up at her, unsure what to say. “I think you two will get along nicely. He is just a year younger than you.”

 

She turned to a taller man who stood behind her. “See if you can find Merlin while I show the Prince his room.” He nodded and left. “Would you like to see your room?” she asked holding out her hand. He nodded. She looked at his two body guards. “You are welcome to follow, or you may go with Kayn here and she will show you to your own rooms which are across from Arthur’s.”

 

“Do you need us, your highness?” Leon asked him. Arthur shook his head no. “Then we shall go with Kayn to inspect our own quarters.” They nodded to her and bowed to Arthur before departing with Kayn, the lady’s own handmaid.

 

“Come then, Arthur, I will show you our home on the way to your rooms. Oh, and my name is Hunith Emrys, you may call me Hunith.” Hunith smiled down at him.

 

~*~

 

By the time he reached his room, he’d been shown most of the first floor and part of the second. The house was huge. Though not as big as Camelot, it still was nice. It was certainly a lot brighter and didn’t smell musty like it did sometimes back home, and his room was bigger than his back home with two large windows facing south east so that when the morning light came through it wouldn’t directly hit him when he woke up.

 

His bed was large, but plain, no fancy bed posts or drapes, but there was a small flower garden on the ledge of the windows and the room had plush rugs across most of the floor. He had a clothes press and a set of drawers, a writing desk with ink and paper set aside for later when he would learn to use them. There weren’t any torches or candles, but there were strange rocks stuck around the room. When he’d asked earlier what those strange stones all over the place were, she said they were enchanted crystals used as light sources. When a word was said, and she had demonstrated, they would light up and create a strong, but soft light to see by.

 

What he hadn’t expected though was a small chest pushed up against the wall which, when opened, contained many toys carved from stone or wood, with cloth and paint decorating them. He was at a loss for word at all the toys. He had had toys at home, but never any like this.

 

But when he tried to thank her, she just shook her head. “These were made for you so that you would not feel lonely or sad. They are gifts from people all over this kingdom who wish you luck and happiness while you stay here.” He nodded mutely, but a large grin was plastered on his face.

 

Inspection done, she guided him down the hall to a door way that opened to one of the terraces. They found the man from earlier, staring up at a ledge where a shadowed figure sat. “Merlin, please come down from there,” he asked softly.

 

“No,” the boy, Merlin, yelled. Hunith gave a sigh.

 

“Merlin, listen to him,” she said, looking at her son upon the ledge. He shook his head furiously. Arthur, wondering why he didn’t want to come down, ran over to the ledge. Using potted plants and decorations carved into the wall, he climbed up to the ledge.

 

He peered at the smaller boy in front of him. He was pale, with short black locks that seemed to stick out in all directions. His eyes when they looked at him were a vibrant shade of blue that had flecks of gold hidden in their depths. He instantly saw why the other boy didn’t want to come down. He’d been crying and from the looks of the scrap on his knee, was in some pain.

 

“What happened?” Arthur asked softly, scooting forward until he was in front of him.

 

“S-some bullies…t-they pushed m-me down and ma-made me hurt m-my knee.” His voice stuttered and hitched as he tried to hold back the tears.

 

Arthur was mad. How dare someone hurt him, no one should bully anyone. “I won’t let them do it again,” Arthur said hotly. Taking out a handkerchief from his pocket, he tied it around his knee. “Is that better?” Arthur asked him. Merlin nodded. “Do…do you want to be friends?” Arthur asked shyly.

 

He was rewarded when a large smile brightened Merlin’s tear stained face and Merlin nodded vigorously. He held out his hand and Merlin shook it. “I’m Arthur,” he told the Druid.

 

“I’m Merlin.” They smiled at each other, and slowly backed off the ledge and reached the ground. Merlin’s mother scolded him softly, but still hugged him, wiping lingering tears off his face. “Can I go play with Arthur now?” he asked in earnest. She smiled and nodded. Merlin turned and grabbed Arthur’s hand, and dragged him along behind him to show him his room.

 

“I knew those two would get along,” Hunith said in a dreamy voice as she watched them disappear through the door.

 

“Of course they get along, High Priestess,” the man replied. “They are two sides of the same coin and share a great destiny together.”

 

She nodded. “Come Maythn, we need to go inform the High Counsel that Arthur has arrived. Have Kayn keep an eye on those two and inform his bodyguards where they are.” He nodded and bowed, leaving to do as she bid.

 

~*~

 

_Fifteen Years Later_

 

“Arthur…we’re supposed to be studying the treaty, not staring into space.” Merlin’s voice rang out from across the room. Arthur just turned to look at him and smiled, but he didn’t move from where he leaned against the wall. Merlin gave a soft sigh and set the aged parchment down. Standing, he walked over to him. “What is it?” Merlin asked softly.

 

Arthur was fidgeting with his hands and when he looked, he could see his locket. He just waited, knowing what was going through his mind. He finally spoke up. “What if they don’t like me?” Arthur asked, voice small.

 

“Of course they’ll like you. You’re their son. They haven’t seen you for fifteen years. They must be dying to meet you finally after so long.” Arthur nodded slightly, but still looked worried. “Look, if they don’t like you, then I’ll turn them into toads for you.” A small smile flicked across his face at the joke they’d made over the years.

 

“Do you want to get out of here?” Arthur asked him.

 

“What? Why? We need to be studying the treaty.” He said, but there wasn’t any conviction behind it. He would never admit it, but the treaty just bored the hell out of him.

 

“We already know it by heart and I just want to get some air. We can play the game we used to play all those years ago and see how long it takes them to find us.” Merlin sighed, but followed him as they snuck out of the room.

 

“Look, you can see it in the distance.” Arthur pointed to the west, where you could just make out the open plains of Camelot over the tree tops. “My home and kingdom to be.” A soft breeze blew his blond locks into his eyes for a moment before he brushed them away.

 

Arthur turned to look at Merlin, but the paler boy was not looking at him. He was standing behind him, back turned as he gazed out across the city. His shoulders were tense for some reason. “Merlin?” Arthur said softly.

 

“Arthur…” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Arthur I need to say something.” Merlin paused and continued. “The High Counsel called me to them the other day. I swear I didn’t know, but…they asked me to go with you…as Ambassador for the Druids, but…if you don’t want me to go, then I’ll decline…,” He stopped talking but didn’t turn around.

 

“Merlin, is that why you’re so nervous? That I wouldn’t want you to come with me.” He gave a soft laugh. “Merlin, I was going to go to the High Counsel to ask if you could come as Ambassador and if not, then just as my companion.”

 

“Really?” Merlin turned to look at Arthur. “But I just thought that you would want to go alone, since this is your home and all that. That you wouldn’t want me to be there to make things strained.”

 

“Enough, Merlin, you’re going and that’s final. Stop trying to make excuses for wanting to go.” Merlin just nodded mutely, a smile on his face.

 

~*~

 

“Are you ready?” Hunith asked him as he stood next to the horse. Arthur nodded to her, smiling at his foster mother. “Then may blessings and peaceful times greet you at Camelot.” The incantation rang softly in the air: a ward and a blessing for travelers with a long road ahead of them.

 

He reached out and hugged her thin frame. She had aged greatly in the past few years and her plump figure had thinned. Her once black hair was now a steel gray, though her blue eyes remained clear. There were wrinkles on her face, laugh lines and frown lines that had not been there fifteen years ago. She was changed from the vibrant woman he’d first seen, but he still loved her.

 

“Merlin,” she turned to the Druid, “You will behave yourself. No using your magic for stupid things. You will show them what it means to be a Druid. Do you understand?” she asked threateningly. Merlin gulped and nodded. “Then come here and give me one last hug.” Hunith gave him a soft smile as he ran over and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Good bye, my son, may blessings and peaceful times always follow with you.” She kissed him on his forehead than stepped back.

 

“Now go. You have a long journey ahead of you and the guards may only go with you as far as the forest’s edge. Sir Leon, Sir Owain, it was an honor to have met such noble knights and I hope you will honor us with a visit, if you so wish.” They both bowed as well as they could from atop their horses.

 

Arthur and Merlin mounted up and soon, their group was off, only a few pack horses behind them to carry their clothing, food and gifts for the royal family of Camelot. Merlin and Arthur only looked back once, at the top of the ledge where the road went into the forest. They stood there for a few minutes, just gazing at the place they’d called home, watching sunlight play among the buildings and off water. Finally, they turned away, stepping into the shadow of the trees.

 

~*~

 

“There it is, your Majesty. Camelot, home of your parents and their court,” Sir Leon’s voice rang out as they crested a hill and a large city spread out below them.

 

For a moment, Arthur just stared down at the sprawling city. Then he looked at Merlin. Although Arthur couldn’t see Merlin’s face underneath the billowing blue cloak, he knew his eyes were on him. “Ready?” Arthur called to him. The hooded figure nodded. He set off, following Sir Leon down the road that would lead him to home.

 

~*~

 

“My King, my Queen. May I present Prince Arthur, your son and Human Ambassador?” the herald called out, as the doors were opened and four figures stepped through, “As well as Merlin Emrys, Druid Ambassador, Sir Leon, and Sir Owain.”

 

The King and Queen stared at the four figures, though one was cloaked. The whole court held its breath as they waited for their monarchs to say something. Ygraine was the first to stir, standing and walking down the dais to look at Arthur. “Arthur…my you’ve grown so much.” She didn’t even notice the tears on her face as she looked at him.

 

“M…mother,” Arthur said hesitantly. He stood there blankly, not sure what to do, but eventually some help was offered in the way of a pale hand shoving him in the back. Pushing him forward, towards his mother. Finally, he gulped, and reached for her. The hug was slightly awkward, but as he stood there, he relaxed into it, her vaguely familiar scent comforting.

 

They stepped apart, but she didn’t let him go. Instead she pulled him along with her, up the dais, to his father. “Arthur,” Uther’s voice was gravelly from suppressed emotion, but he smiled at him. Arthur nodded, but didn’t go to him. There was time for that later.

 

Uther turned back to the other three. “Sir Leon, Sir Owain. You two have been faithful to the crown these past fifteen years. If there is anything I may grant you, than just ask. Though I’m sure you would like to go and visit friends and family at the moment. We will speak further once things have settled down.” They bowed low to him, turned and left.

 

Finally, only the cloaked figure stood in front of the thrones. He’d almost forgotten about them, they stood so still. “Merlin Emrys, why do you remain cloaked before us?”

 

He didn’t speak, just bowed than pulled the hood back. He was pale. Paler than any there, with dark ink black hair that was wild looking. His blue eyes, which when younger had been almost all blue, were now streaked with gold that flashed in the light. His ears, though large, were slightly pointed, but it was subtle, and few noticed it at first. He had high cheekbones and an aquiline nose. Underneath the blue cloak, a long flowing robe covered sturdy trousers, a tunic and a neckerchief. Although few noticed, his feet were bare, skin just as pale as the rest of him, but they were clean.

 

“King and Queen of Camelot, I bring greetings from the High Counsel of the Druids and the High Priestess of Avalon.” His voice was light, like wind through the trees. The two nodded. “They also send gifts as an offering of good will.” The court let out a gasp as his eyes flashed gold and a pile of packages appeared on the floor in front of them.

 

“We thank you, Ambassador. Tell me, what is it you wish to do while you are staying here?” Uther’s voice was soft and clear. His eyes were hard and assessing.

 

Merlin didn’t even blink or look away. “I wish to study with your physician. To study human medicine and science. And in return, I will trade medical knowledge of our race with him. I have the permission of the High Counsel to do this.”

 

Uther thought this over for a moment, than nodded. “Gaius,” Uther called out, and an old man stepped out from the crowd. “Gaius is the Royal Physician. You may study with him while you stay here.” Merlin nodded in thanks.

 

“For now, we will call court to an end early today.” He motioned to a pair of servants in the back of the room, and they came forward towards the packages. Soon, they were carrying them off to some place in the castle. He motioned for another servant. “He will show you to where you will be staying.” Merlin just bowed again. His gaze flicked up briefly to Arthur, who stood beside the thrones, but didn’t say anything. Just gave a small smile and left, following the servant out of the room.

 

~*~

 

Arthur looked around himself, unsure of what to do next. He’d been wondering the castle for an hour now, and though his memories of its halls were fuzzy, he could still find his way around to a degree. But he was now bored of this. His father was in a meeting, and though he would have like to join him, he did not know enough about the different sides of Camelot’s political on goings.

 

Arthur had fully realized this, but he still felt like he’d been dropped into stormy seas with only a small boat to maneuver on. There was no telling how Merlin was getting on. While he had a boat, Merlin had nothing. No way to tell what was right and wrong, whom to turn to, in this new kingdom.

 

Merlin’s only contact with humans was limited to three people, until just recently. Now he was going to have to learn how to maneuver through court politics and fast. Thinking of Merlin made Arthur wish to see him.

 

They’d never been parted this long, and it made him feel lonely. Deciding that a visit was due, Arthur changed course and followed sketchy memories to where he assumed the Physician’s quarters where.

 

Upon arrival, Arthur was met with an odd sight. Merlin stood behind a table heaped with jars, beakers, test tube, all made from glass, metal, or porcelain. He was bent over a small burner with two test tubes in his hands as he poured them into the beaker over the fire. A small spoon stirred the liquid on its own, guided by the magic that flashed in his eyes.

 

Arthur just stared, a small smile on his face as he watched the emotions pass over his face which still somehow remained in a look of concentration. Thinking it unwise to disrupt him, Arthur leaned against the door frame and waited to see what happened.

 

He didn’t have to wait long as it started to smoke and then gave a small explosion in Merlin’s face. As it wafted his way, he wrinkled his nose. It smelled like bad eggs and over ripe fruit. He felt sorry for Merlin, who’d gotten the full brunt of it. He could hear him coughing and hacking to clear his lungs.

 

“So…I’m guessing you are enjoying yourself here?” Arthur asked as the smoke cleared in a magical breeze the shooed it out the open window.

 

“Arthur? How long have you been there?” Merlin asked as he wiped his face on a piece of cloth to remove the soot.

 

“Before it started to smoke, so what was that?”

 

“It was supposed to be a tonic for stomach cramps, but I think I got it slightly wrong. What are you doing here?” He turned the fire off and came around the table, leaning against its edge as he looked at him.

 

“Just visiting, I wanted to see how you were settling in after a week here. Nothing to horrible has happened to you, I hope?” Arthur asked in a mocking voice.

 

“No, it’s been fine here. Though I’ve spent most of my time in here or in the library so, few have ‘approached’ me for engaging conversation, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Merlin smiled at Arthur.

 

“It’s just—,”

 

“Ah, Your Highness, what do we owe the pleasure for your visit?” Gaius asked from behind him as he entered the room.

 

“Oh, hello, just seeing how he was getting along. He’s no trouble to you, is he?”

 

“Oh no, I’ve learned a great deal from him in the last week alone. He’s definitely no trouble at all,” Gaius assured him.

 

“That’s good. Then I guess I better get going.” Arthur nodded to them both and beat a hasty retreat, though he wouldn’t admit it.

 

So Merlin hadn’t been approached by anyone yet in a hope of gaining influence over him. He wasn’t sure if that worried him or made him feel relieved. Either someone was stopping them from approaching or they were all planning something which would not be good for anyone.

 

He was so preoccupied in his thoughts that he almost ran his father over as he came out of the meeting room.

 

“Ah, Arthur, just the man I was looking for. Come; let us have lunch with your mother.” He turned to the others behind him. “You are dismissed. Keep me informed on the reports from the north.” They bowed to him and left Uther alone with Arthur.

 

“Come.” Uther led the way down the hall to where the family dining room was located. Inside, his mother was seated with Morgana, his adoptive sister; her handmaid stood a discreet distance from the table with the other servants, waiting to serve them lunch.

 

“Ah, Arthur, so good you could join us.” Morgana’s tone was sweet and light, but he knew it was false. The first time he had met her, in a deserted corridor his second day here, she hadn’t tried to hid her true self from him. She was rude, annoying as only girls could be and she always seemed to know what he was thinking. That and the fact that she liked to look down on him, because he was younger than her by two years made him dislike her, or more precise, dislike being alone with her. Around others, she was as pleasant as could be.

 

“Thank you,” Arthur said softly. Sitting down, he let the servants set his plate in front of him, and then started to eat. It was good, but to be honest, it had a little too much meat in it for his liking. He was used to lighter meat like rabbit or pheasant. This meat, beef from the taste, was heavy with lots of excess fat in it. But he still ate it. It would be rude to not eat, though he did stock up on plenty of vegetables.

 

“Oh Arthur, I forgot to mention this morning. In two days’ time, there will be a feast in celebration of your return and to welcome Merlin officially to the court,” Ygraine told him, a bright smile on her face.

 

“That should be nice. I’ll tell him later and help him out with any questions,” Arthur said, not really paying attention. She just smiled again.

 

“So tell us. What was it like living among Druids?” Morgana asked genuine curiosity in her voice. “Is it true they don’t eat meat?”

 

“To a point, mainly because most of the creatures living in their forests are of magical origin, they cannot hunt them. They rely heavily on agriculture to eat, though there are some who raise a few animals, mainly rabbits or chickens. There aren’t any pastures to raise the larger animals. As to what it was like living there…”

 

~*~

 

_Arthur ran behind Merlin, following the younger boy as they ran through the garden towards the back wall. ‘Merlin, where are we going?’ Arthur asked him though he didn’t slow down._

_‘You’ll see in a minute,’ Merlin called out. He watched the paler boy disappear around the corner of the hedge they’d been following. Rushing to catch up, he was cut short by the wall. Looking up, he could see Merlin just pulling himself onto the top of the wall._

_Following his path, he climbed up next to him ‘So, what am I supposed to be looking at?’ He could only see tall bushes in front of them._

_‘This.’ Merlin’s eyes flashed gold and the bushes parted, revealing a view of the city. It was better than the one he’d had on his arrival. He was closer now, and could make out details._

_‘It’s pretty,’ Arthur said softly._

_‘It’s home,’ Merlin said loudly, a lopsided grin on his face. Arthur couldn’t help but smile back._

 

~*~

 

“Well, it’s hard to explain. I guess you could say it’s like a surreal world with all the magic you see and yet it’s just like here. People going about ordinary lives, making a living, raising families.” He let the silence range on as his thoughts traveled back to that sun lit city.

 

“It sounds quite lovely,” Ygraine said softly a few minutes later. “Who knows, maybe one day in the future, more humans will be able to look at that city hidden in the forests.” She smiled at him again than stood. “I’ll be going now. I will see you all later.” She turned and left.

 

Arthur watched her leave, and then stood. “I’m going to go inform Merlin of the feast.” He nodded to the last two seated and left them.

 

~*~

 

Arthur paced his chambers, fussing with his clothes that were already perfect. He was nervous about being in front of all those people. He’d only ever done this a few times, mostly at feasts for the great holidays and that was only because he was part of the High Priestess’s household.

 

“Sire,” a voice called to him. He spun and looked at the servant in the door way. “It’s time to go down to the banquet hall.” The servant bowed to him and left.

 

Taking a deep breath, he followed close behind. No use getting lost. Some signal was made, because as he reached the door, it opened inward to let him through. He glanced at the assembled people. They filled the whole room, taking up every available spot at the tables laden with plates and silverware.

 

He didn’t even pause. He just walked up to the royal family’s dining table and went to stand by Morgana. He didn’t have long to wait as the door was opened a second time and in walked Merlin. He was dressed in blue as usual, but it was the style of Camelot dress. Blue tunic over a white undershirt that was belted to his waist. Dark, form fitting breeches, and polished black boots.

 

Arthur was surprised. It actually made him look more human, though he was still really pale. Merlin walked forward to stand in front of the table. “Merlin Emrys, Ambassador of the Druid people. We formally welcome you to Camelot. We hope your stay among us will be pleasant. As they say among your people, may blessings and peaceful times be with you always.” Uther’s voice never changed in volume as he spoke, it showed no emotion.

 

Merlin bowed to him a smile on his face, “and may they grace you with their presence as well.”

 

Uther nodded and motioned for him to rise. “Come, sit. Enjoy the feast.” He motioned to the table just below the royal one. It was meant for visiting nobles or important persons, like Ambassadors. Merlin bowed again and went to the table to sit. There were four others with him. One was a visiting noble lady. The other three were all knights from different parts of the realm.

 

“Let the feast begin.” Uther’s voice rang out and then all were sitting.

 

~*~

 

They were two courses into the feast before Merlin felt someone staring at him. Glancing over, he saw one of the knights and the lady was watching him curiously. “Yes?” Merlin finally asked, setting down his fork and turned to face them.

 

“May I ask you a question?” the lady asked him.

 

“My lady, the reason I am here is for people to ask me questions about my people. Please, don’t be shy. Ask me your question.” He smiled at her.

 

“Well, it’s just that I have heard that Druid people don’t eat meat, but you’ve eaten every piece of meat set in front of you that has come. Why is that?”

 

“It’s simple my lady. That is only part of the truth. It is true that many of my people abstain from meat, but we still do eat it. But there is so little of it since we do not have pastures to graze the larger herd animals that we rely mainly on agriculture and whatever we can catch in our forests, though even those are few because most of the animals that live in our forest are of magical origins.”

 

“I also was raised to eat meat mainly because of Arthur. While he stayed in our household, my mother wished for him to be comfortable, so she tried to have meat on the table most of the time. I just grew accustomed to its tastes and textures.”

 

“Oh, that’s fascinating. It would be lovely to visit your home to see what it actually looks like.” Her smile was bright.

 

“Who knows my lady? Maybe one day in the future it will be possible.” He smiled back, but he couldn’t fail to notice that most people had stopped talking to listen to their conversation. It seemed many of them want to know the answer to that question.

 

Ignoring them, he went back to his food, purposely cutting a large piece of meat from the dish in front of him, and eating it.

 

~*~

 

By the time the feast was over, Arthur wanted to bang his head against the table really hard. If he had to watch one more person stare in wonder as Merlin ate another piece of meat, he would strangle them. He was tired, too full for comfort, and just wanted to go lie down somewhere where no one would disturb him.

 

Instead, he had to sit here as Uther gave a final speech, going on about how he hoped that this alliance with the Druids would last for a long time once they finalized the treaty and that one day, humans and Druids could walk amongst each other without fear.

 

Finally, he was excused as he followed them from the room. But he knew it wasn’t over yet. His mother had asked him earlier today if he would sit with her and his father and sister after the meal to talk and continue to get to know each other.

 

Steeling himself for the evening, he settled into his chair. He wasn’t prepared for his mother’s first question. “What is Merlin like?” she asked him.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I just want to know if the way he was acting tonight was normal for him or just a mask,” she said, looking over at him. “And who exactly is he?”

 

“Merlin acts like that sometimes, but mainly he’s really goofy and clumsy and makes a mess of things. As to who he is, he is the son of the High Priestess of Avalon, Hunith Emrys who is equal to the High Counsel in power and influence.”

 

“So he would be like a prince to his people?” Arthur nodded. “Will he become High Priest after his mother?” Ygraine asked.

 

“No.”

 

“Why is that?” She seemed genuinely interested.

 

“He is not, as he would say, ‘into the religion.’ He never became a disciple. He is more interested in medicine and science, along with magic. He never wanted to join. The next in line will be the Master of Ceremonies. Maythn is just under Hunith in the temple’s hierarchy.”

 

She seemed to think this over for a moment, than sighed. “It’s amazing how little we know of these people. They seem so amazing. You were lucky to be able to live among them and learn. Even though I missed you, I would not change my decision.”

 

She cupped his cheek and smiled at him. Standing back, she went to the window. “I think…yes. It is a fine night out. Would you care to go for a walk Arthur? You must be wound tight after your first feast here.”

 

He thought about it than nodded. Some fresh air would do him good. Standing, he followed her out of the room. She led him through the castle until they reached the wall surrounding it.

 

They’d been walking in a comfortable silence when his mother stopped him. “Arthur, what is that?” She pointed.

 

“Hmm,” he followed her finger and tried to make out what she had seen in the night. One second, it was dark, than specks of gold light seemed to swirl dizzyingly around a silhouetted shape. It was leaning against the edge of the wall, facing east as it stared out over the land intently.

 

Then the lights seemed to get slightly brighter and he could make out Merlin’s features. His eyes were open and staring, no hint of blue in the gold. As he watched, another gold light appeared, sliding down his cheek before it floated away from him. He was crying and his magic was mixing with his tears and changing them.

 

He took a step forward. “Merlin?” Arthur called softly. The paler male jumped and the lights went out. A different light appeared over them, illuminating him in a pale yellow glow.

 

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb your walk,” Merlin whispered as he wiped his arm over his eyes, but it didn’t help since the tears wouldn’t stop.

 

“Merlin, what’s wrong?” Arthur asked him, taking another step forward, all but forgetting his mother behind him.

 

“I-it’s nothing.”

 

“Merlin,” Arthur’s voice held a warning in it, “What’s wrong?”

 

Merlin stared at him, eyes no longer gold, just large, wet and deep blue. “I…I can’t find her. She…she’s not there. I can’t find her Arthur.” His voice was cracking, more tears filling his eyes.

 

“Who, Merlin?” Arthur felt his heart squeeze, knowing the answer, but dreading it.

 

“She’s gone Arthur. My mother’s gone. I can’t feel her anymore. She…she’s gone and I never got to say goodbye. I never…,” his voice choked.

 

Arthur didn’t think. He just stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his friend. “I never got to say goodbye,” Merlin wailed into his shoulder as he shook. He could feel his warm tears soaking his shirt. He could feel his own tears sliding silently down his face.

 

“Arthur?” Ygraine asked softly behind him. He turned to look at her. “How…” She didn’t even finish.

 

“Druids are born with the ability to sense the life force of the ones they care most about. Mostly it is parents or siblings or close friends,” Arthur whispered to her softly, holding the still shaking man.

 

Arthur stood there until he felt the change in Merlin. His body became lax and started to droop. Arthur looked down and could see that Merlin had cried himself into an exhausted sleep. Sighing, he lifted him up.

 

“Mother?” Arthur asked her.

 

“I’ll show you where his rooms are,” she said softly. Ygraine smiled sadly at the sleeping Druid. “Poor child. Just left home and this happened.” She reached out a hand and hesitantly stroked his hair. Merlin didn’t even stir. She sighed and turned away. “This way.” Arthur followed her along the wall, ignoring the looks of the sentries as he passed them.

 

~*~

 

The next morning arrived with the news of his mother’s death. The cloaked Druid stood in front of a small gathering of nobles, Merlin and the royal family. He relayed his message, telling the court that Hunith Emrys, High Priestess of Avalon had died in her sleep nearly two weeks ago.

 

The messenger, shifting on his feet nervously, waited for the king to speak. He turned to look at Merlin whose eyes were still red rimmed and whose shoulders drooped as if under a heavy burden. “Do you wish to return to you home to pay your respects?” The king asked.

 

That seemed to snap Merlin out of his stupor. He shook his head, either in answer to the question, or to wake himself up. “No, I will stay here and do what I must to keep the peace between our people. My mother would understand.” Merlin looked at the messenger. “Please send my condolences to the rest of my family and the house staff. Also tell the temple I will be making my last goodbyes tonight.”

 

The man bowed. “I will relay your message by messenger bird right now.” Merlin nodded, but didn’t say anymore. The man left, drawing his hood back up as he exited the throne room.

 

“If your majesties would excuse me, I must prepare.” The king nodded and he turned and left. That seemed to be the signal for the rest of the gathered people to leave.

 

Once they were alone, Morgana turned to Arthur. “What is he preparing for?” She asked him, keeping her voice low pitched incase others were still within hearing distance.

 

Arthur shook his head. “I can’t really explain. It will be easier to show you. We will have to be on the western wall when the sun starts to set. We’ll see then.” The king nodded and Arthur turned to leave. Morgana curtsied slightly, than hurried to catch up to him, slipping her arm in his as they walked out of the room.

 

~*~

 

“Did you know her well?” She asked him as they walked the royal gardens.

 

“Who?” He asked his thoughts elsewhere.

 

“Merlin’s mother?”

 

“Yes. I grew up with her and Merlin. She was really kind and always had a nice word to say for any situation. I remember once, Merlin broke one of her favorite vases. He was trembling in fright thinking he was going to get in so much trouble. She just laughed and shrugged it off. Then she snapped her fingers and the pieces joined back together. He asked her why he wasn’t in trouble and she just said ‘I knew you didn’t mean to do it.’ I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so relieved.”

 

She watched the small smile play across his face. “You two must be really close then?”

 

“Yea, I guess we are. He was the first kid my age that I had met. He helped me with my studies and I helped him when the other kids bullied him. It just seemed to work out.”

 

“Do you think he’ll be okay?” She asked him.

 

His mind went back to the night before. He remembered the shattered look he’d had on his face. The tears he’d shed. He also remembered the desolate look he’d had on his face this morning. “I…don’t know. He might be alright, but he was always so sensitive to those around him and I’m not sure what her death will do to him. We’ll just have to keep an eye on him and keep him busy to keep his mind from dwelling on it.”

 

She nodded. “I can at least do that. How about you invite him out tomorrow with Gwen and me. We’re going to go have a picnic. That will at least get him out of his room.”

 

“I’ll try and if he refuses, I’ll drag him out.” She smiled, and left him at the exit to the gardens.

 

~*~

 

He stood with his family on the western wall towards the northern corner. The sun was setting, sending spears of golden and crimson light through the clouds and sky in a last vain attempt to remain above the horizon. Dark blue shadows stretched out before them as they faced west.

 

They could just make out the silhouette form of the Druid kneeling down on the stone walkway of the wall. It was exactly opposite the place where Arthur and Ygraine had found him last night. He was hunched over a small bowl, its contents in shadow below the lip of the bowl.

 

After about five minutes, he stood, picking up the bowl and setting it on the raised edge of the wall. He turned his face towards the sinking sun, eyes flashing gold in its light. His body followed his head and as he turned, he flung the contents of the bowl into the air. It was some sort of powder that shimmered as the light hit it, but instead of falling to the ground, it hung suspended.

 

As the watched, it started to gather in on itself, shaping into some sort of image. As it settled, a face looked out at them, pale and dark haired, just like her son. Her dark eyes seemed to shine love down on him as he whispered his last goodbyes to her.

 

Arthur let his heart go out to her, saying his own goodbyes to her. As they watched the edges of the image started to flare with color of the sun and then it was burning, the flames swirling around and around until they shot into the air with a new shape.

 

A blazing phoenix roared into the sky, screeching out a heart wrenching lament as it took to the sky chasing the setting sun. Body blazing one last time in burst of color, it dissipated on the wind, magic no longer feeding its flames.

 

Looking down the wall, he saw the fallen man. Sighing, he walked over to him. Leaning down, he patted his cheek until he came to. “Did it go through?” He asked weakly.

 

“Yes. She’s in Avalon now. She’s in paradise.” Arthur answered him.

 

“That’s good.” He slumped back down as his energy ran out for the second day in a row. Sighing, Arthur beckoned one of the guards over.

 

“Help me get him to his room.” The man bowed and lifted the unconscious Druid up.

 

~*~

 

Merlin was roused by the scent of food tickling his nose and making his stomach growl. Letting out a sigh, he opened his eyes, turning his head to glance around the room. There on the table, he could see a steaming bowl with food on small plates set around it and next to the table, Arthur sat facing the window.

 

“What happened?” His voice came out in a croak

 

Arthur turned to look at him. “You used up your energy saying goodbye. I had to get one of the guards to help carry your heavy arse back here. Who’d have thought that someone so skinny could be so heavy?” Arthur smiled at the joke

 

“Ha. Sorry about that. I guess I don’t know when to stop yet.” He sat up and dragged his weary body from the bed and to the table. Once sat, he started to wolf down the food, stopping only to take sips from his glass of water.

 

“I have an invitation for you?” Arthur told him as he started to slow down.

 

“From who?” He took a sip of water to clean his mouth.

 

“Morgana. She wants you and me to go on a picnic with her and her maid. I guess she wants to get to know you.” He took some of the left over bread on the plate and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he waited for Merlin to answer.

 

“Alright, I guess I can go. I mean I’ve nothing better to do at the moment. Will you tell her yes and that I’ll meet them and you in the courtyard?” Arthur nodded.

 

He stood from the chair and stepped towards Merlin. Placing a hand on his shoulder, he smiled. “She would be proud of you Merlin. Proud of both of us for what we’re doing.” Merlin nodded mutely. “I’ll see you in half an hour.” He walked out of the room.

 

Merlin continued to stare at the table for a few minutes, memories flowing through his mind as he thought of his mother. It was hard to think that such an important person in his life was gone. Sighing he stood and went to change. He had an invitation to a picnic to attend.

 

~*~

 

Merlin stood on the steps leading from the main doors. It was bright out, a few clouds moving across the bright blue sky. It was still the middle of summer and the heat was baking everything, causing the ground and roof tops to shimmer.

 

In the middle of the courtyard, four horses stood. All were already readied and two of them had riders. He could make out Morgana’s pale skin and dark hair next to Arthur’s blond hair and tanned skin. She was talking to him, as he stood next to her horse. Gwen, her handmaiden, was busy packing the picnic into the saddle bags.

 

He slowly walked down, shielding his eyes against the bright light. Morgana glanced up and smiled, noticing his approach. Arthur followed her gaze and smiled, too, as he saw the paler Druid. By the time he stood in front of them, Gwen had finished and was already in the saddle of her placid mare.

 

“Good Morning, Merlin.” Morgana greeted him. He nodded. “Are you ready to ride?” She asked him as Arthur brought the horse towards him.

 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He joked, pulling himself up into the saddle easily.

 

~*~

 

They reached their destination twenty minutes later. They landscape rolled by, more open than the Druid lands, but still just as nice. He could see farms in the distance, fields and pastures with large grazing animals milling about in the heat of the day.

 

They ended up on the edge of a small patch of forest, beneath the branches of a large oak tree. As Arthur and Gwen set about laying the blanket down and pulling out the food, Merlin stood to the side, eyes scanning the surrounding fields of grass.

 

Merlin. “Merlin!” Arthur’s voice finally penetrated his distant thoughts, drawing him back to the present. He turned and saw that they were all already seated on the blanket. “Jeez, _Mer_ lin. Get the cotton out of your ears.” Arthur complained.

 

“Oi, no need to be a prat.” He declared with a mock glare as he walked over to the blanket and sat too.

 

“Hmm, he is a bit pratish, isn’t he?” Morgana agreed. Gwen was beside her, hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.

 

“Look who’s talking, _idiot_!” He shot back as he held out some food for Merlin to take. “And, no one asked your opinion, Morgana. Keep your nose out of things.” He gripped as he handed her and Gwen some food.

 

“But, brother dear, what would be the fun in that. It’s my duty as your sister to meddle in your life and since I missed the last fifteen years of it, I need to make up for lost time.” She smiled evilly, taking a small bite of one of the sandwiches.

 

Merlin laughed, and ducked when Arthur threw a small pebble at his head. “I’m beset on all sides.” He complained loudly.

 

They all laughed at this and set to work eating the food packed for them. It was comfortable, even with Morgana making snarky comments about Arthur every once in a while.

 

Finally, the last of the food was put away as they became full. Arthur was lying on his back staring up at the branches of the trees. Gwen and Morgana were seated between him and Merlin, asking random questions about life among the Druids.

 

“How long do Druids live?” Gwen asked.

 

“The oldest known was about a hundred and three, but she was said to have been powerful and was using her magic to keep herself alive near the end. Normally, Druids live about the same life span as a human, maybe a little longer.” Merlin explained, seeming comfortable with the conversation.

 

“Can all Druids use magic?” Morgana asked.

 

“No, but only a small amount can’t. Although magic is inherent in Druids, many do not have enough of it to use it.”

 

“What about you? I know you can work magic, but how strong are you?” She asked eyes sharp as she looked over him.

 

“Although he doesn’t look it, Merlin is one of the strongest out there at the moment. Of course, just because he _has_ all that magic, doesn’t make him very skilled. Half the time it either doesn’t work or it back fires and usually ends up causing trouble, for me mostly.” Arthur grouched, turning to glare at the Druid. Merlin just smiled back apologetically.

 

“I can’t help it. You try having this much magic jammed in you and try to control it and then come complaining to me.” He replied evenly. This sounded like a frequent argument between them.

 

“That powerful, huh? Can you show us some of this magic?” Morgana asked again.

 

Merlin nodded and seemed to think this over. Finally, he turned back to the surrounding fields. Ignoring the gasps from the two women as his eyes shone bright gold briefly, he gestured widely.

 

Two small wild flowers detached from their stems and floated over to land in Morgana and Gwen’s outstretched hands.

 

“Show off.” Arthur muttered.

 

“It takes one to know one.” Arthur just smirked at that and said nothing.

 

“This is amazing.” Merlin just shrugged the praise off. At home, that would have been basic for many Druids, though, unlike him, they would have had to use incantations.

 

“I do have my own question.” Merlin admitted aloud. Morgana nodded, gesturing for him to continue. “Do you know when Uther plans to start the treaty talks? I understand that this is a delicate matter and will take time to gather those needed, but I don’t know how much longer the Council will remain patient.”

 

“I’ve been wondering this too? Do you know anything, Arthur?” She asked, turning to him.

 

“He mentioned the finalization of the treaty, yes, but not when he plans to start them. I think he wants to wait as long as possible and get as many of the nobles here before he starts the talks.” He admitted, remembering past conversations and meeting spent doing nothing, but listening to them talk about politics.

 

“I guess I’ll just have to wait.” He seemed to think something over. “Well, at least I get to spend more time learning from Gaius.” He declared cheerfully.

 

They all laughed at his enthusiasm. Deciding it was time to head back, they started to gather their stuff together and grab the horses.

 

By the time they reached the castle, the sun was nearing the horizon, and the city was starting to close shop for the night to come. Arthur and Merlin left the two women in the entrance hall.

 

“How are you feeling?” Arthur asked. They were outside Merlin’s set of rooms, the door slightly opened.

 

A soft sigh answered him. “Sad, but she would have wanted me to go on…I miss her.” He admitted in a small voice, looking up at the blonde with guilt filled eyes. “I talked with the messenger before he left. He said she died about a week after we left. All that time, I was in my own little world. She was dead and not once did I think of her.”

 

Arthur huffed out a sigh. “Merlin, she knew this was coming. She didn’t say anything to you because she knew you would get like this. Placing all the guilt on your shoulders; it was meant to happen. You couldn’t have stopped it, if you had stayed behind. She wanted you to go, to start a new life here.”

 

“You know, that’s really annoying.” He sniffed, wiping at wet eyes. “You’re just like her. You never let me get away with anything.”

 

“That’s what I’m here for.” He reached out and patted him on the shoulder, giving a quick squeeze. “You’ll be alright?” He asked him. Merlin nodded, giving a wan smile at him. “Then I’ll be going. I’ll see you at dinner.” He strode off, leaving Merlin staring after him.

 

~*~

 

It was another week before anything started to happen. Slowly, lords and knights started to arrive, from all over the kingdom. The last time this many of Camelot’s nobility had been gathered was over fifteen years ago when the initial treaty had been created between Uther and the High Counsel.

 

If Merlin was nervous about the upcoming debates, he didn’t show it. It appeared that the pale Druid had been marked as off limits from the political wolves that wanted a piece of him.

 

Even then, it didn’t deter any from trying. At first, it was a few invitations, for walks or talks of Druid life, but it soon escalated to the point that a personal assistant had to be hired to help with all the notes and mail he was getting.

 

Her name was Freya, a sweet girl who took a quick liking to the Druid Ambassador. Her main task was to weed out anything political related, which was most of what arrived.

 

For anything that was meant as a ploy to get the Druid alone, a polite refusal was written in her neat script back to the sender. After that, the pile was usually small enough that Merlin could handle it himself, and he quickly picked out ones where there was more than one person there and had either Arthur or Morgana attending as a referee.

 

No big feasts or events were scheduled to happen for a few weeks, mainly due to the fact that everyone was preparing for the feasts and events prepared for the time when the treaty was being finalized.

 

They were meant to be distractions for the nobles, royalty, and the lone ambassador between bouts of fighting over points of the treaty. For the most part Merlin wasn’t really looking forward to these things.

 

The welcoming feast alone had been enough to fill him up for days afterwards it seemed, but now with them about to happen almost weekly, he didn’t know if he had the stomach capacity to eat at each without his stomach bursting.

 

Not only that, but he also had to sit there and watch knights and nobles alike pound each other into the ground in the name of ‘sport’. From what he’d seen, Arthur was looking forward to these events and appeared to be joining in, though only for a few. He appeared to want to _‘see what it’s like.’_ Why, Merlin didn’t know, but wouldn’t begrudge him.

 

He knew that if Arthur had not come to live among the Druids, he would have been doing this since he was able to wield a sword. Although he tried not to, he felt slightly guilty for this. The treaty was the reason Arthur had been deprived of this sort of thing.

 

Though his time among the Druids hadn’t been idle. He had trained alongside both his knight guardians and Druid warriors, quickly surpassing them. Because of this, even though he was Human, he had been greatly sought after. Power was greatly coveted among his people. The young were taught from birth that in order to have a better life in their next life, they need to gain power now. The most powerful in magic, strength, mind, influence, were placed at the top. The weakest were at the base, struggling to claw their way to the top.

 

For the most part, he and Arthur had little time together. A quick walk here, a brief lunch together there and then they were swept away from each other by obligations. Though soon they would have plenty of time, what with all the talks and things scheduled, they were bound to be thrown together more often than not.

 

~*~

 

It was nearly two weeks from that fun little picnic when the day of the beginning feast for the start of treaty talks was announced. Merlin sat down with a huff, pulling at the lacings of his shirt. The day was hot with little wind. It felt like the castle was an oven trying to back them alive.

 

He glanced up at a knock at the door. “Come in.” Freya stepped in, a small smile on her face as she took in his flushed face and slouched posture. He groaned. “Not more?”

 

“Sorry, but yes. Most appear to be requests for you to sit next them, and a few are for dances from visiting ladies. The rest seem to be the usual political notes.” She walked forward, setting the small stack of rolled or seal parchment onto the sturdy table she had claimed as her own for her work.

 

She looked just as bad as he did, curls of hair escaping from its braid to cling to her face and neck from sweat. She started to fan herself with one of the rejected letters as she looked through the rest, every once in a while sliding one over to him, deeming it worthy enough for his eyes.

 

For his part, he tried to be fair. He’d been warned by many that this would happen and he must not show favoritism towards any. Sometimes he wondered if this had been a good idea, coming here as Ambassador.

 

He’d never had any stomach for politics, even back home. One of the reasons why he hadn’t wanted to become an adept of Avalon, it revolved around politics, where he just wanted to learn and not have to worry about his image.

 

Sighing again, he read through his own little stack, picking out the ones that seemed okay. Only two asking for a dance found their way into his pile. One was from Lady Morgause. The other was from Lady Helen of Mora, a singer and one who would also serve as entertainment for the feast.

 

Setting them aside, he stood to go look out the thin windows in his room. One of the drawbacks of living in a fortified castle was the lack of a view. His room looked over the Camelot training fields. He could just make out Arthur, blonde hair shining in the bright sun as he fought with one of the visiting knights.

 

He looked happy- no, at home- here among his people. Here, he wasn’t the foreigner, Merlin was. A wave of homesickness swept over him bringing with it the guilt and sadness at the loss of his mother.

 

Pushing it away, he continued to watch as Arthur fought against the man and won. His face lit up, from both sunlight and triumph. Merlin didn’t even try to hide the snort of humor as he watched Arthur strut around over the victory. Some things never changed.

 

He leaned against the wall, still looking out the window. “Four more days, huh?” He asked aloud.

 

“Yes. Don’t forget your meeting with the seamstress tomorrow. She wants to make the last minute adjustments to your outfit.”

 

He gave a frustrated growl. “I swear, since I got here, I’ve done nothing but play dress up doll.” He sent a scowl at Freya when she laughed, but couldn’t keep it up as he, too, laughed. “Alright, I won’t forget. Send word back to the ones I picked out while I’m gone.” She nodded as he left on his way to visit Gaius.

 

~*~

 

“Ready?” Arthur asked as they stood outside the main doors to the banquet hall. It was meant to be seen as a symbol of friendship between the two peoples, Druid and Human, walking into the feast. It was a bonus that they were actually friends to begin with, though Uther would never say that out loud.

 

“I guess.” He was fidgeting, tugging at the collar of his laced up shirt. “How can you stand to wear this?” He felt like his air was cut off.

 

Arthur just sighed. “Come here.” He turned Merlin to face him, tugging at the upper laces until they were hanging loosely around his neck. “Better?”

 

He nodded, face red from embarrassment. “But, what about the dress code?” Uther had been adamant that they stick to the dress code.

 

“If anyone asks, just tell them the truth, that it made you feel uncomfortable. If Uther asks, then tell him I changed it. Okay?”

 

Merlin nodded. Arthur turned to the guards. “We’re ready.” They bowed and stepped forward to open the doors. A horn blared and the herald announced them, much to Merlin’s chagrin.

 

They made it down the row between the tables without any mishap from Merlin who was known for his clumsiness. Nodding to Merlin as they stopped before his table, Arthur continued on to his own seat beside his father.

 

He mostly ignored his speech, catching a few phrases like _“a better future” “advances in medicine” “allies against our enemies”_. It seemed to go on and on. He kept himself entertained by watching the gathered people and Merlin especially.

 

The Druid still continued to fidget, uncomfortable being talked about and watched by everyone in the room. Most were focused on his father, caught up in his speech. A few just kept their eyes on Merlin. He could put a name on a few of them.

 

One was the Lady Morgause who was seated next to Lord Gareth the senior, one of the Lords and Knights who defend the northern borders. Another was Lady Helen of Mora. He assumed she was husband hunting and what better than the Druid Ambassador who helped bring about peace. There was a third person watching him. Sir Cardok, second son of Lord Cardok.

 

It had been said that Lord Cardok had been unable to attend due to battle wounds and had sent his son, who was already a knight of Camelot, instead. He wasn’t sure why the young man was watching him, but Arthur would have to keep an eye on him just to be safe.

 

His father finished and everyone started clapping. He joined in as well, though he didn’t really want to. As the last of the applause died, servants came streaming into the room, laden with dish after dish. Taking his pick, he kept an eye on Merlin, making sure he didn’t take anything that would upset or hurt his system.

 

Seeing nothing, he set about enjoying his meal, since it was probably the only thing he was going to enjoy tonight. The one thing he hadn’t liked about this banquet, there was going to be dancing and although he knew the steps, didn’t mean he wanted to dance with every woman, eligible or otherwise, that was attending tonight.

 

Giving a faint sigh, he dug into his roasted lamb, enjoying the spices put into it. It was going to be a long night. The meal went by slowly, but surely, each course served and devoured by those gathered.

 

For the most part, he remained silent, occasionally talking with his father about trivial things. By the last course, a sweet apple tart served with warm cider, he was stuffed and wasn’t sure if could stand let alone dance without puking it back up.

 

Standing, although uncomfortable, was necessary as the servants cleared the tables. The dancing was about to begin and he must start it with Morgana as his partner. His only wish was for her to not step on his foot as revenge for his rude comments earlier today about how all she did was brush her hair.

 

He held out his arm to her and she took it with a smile, an evil gleam in her eye as he led her to the dance floor. Wary, he fell into step beside her and was soon in the center of the crowd of nobles and lone Druid.

 

He could feel Merlin’s eyes on him and knew the pale man must have a large grin on his face for Arthur’s discomfort. Turning to his stepsister, he moved into position, one hand raised, the other at her waist. Hers went into his raised palm and onto his shoulder, fingers digging in painfully for a brief moment, nails long and lethal.

 

Keeping his face composed, he took a step and she followed, their movements composed and graceful, even as they both went to war against each other. He squeezed her hand in retaliation, grinding the thin finger bones together briefly. The only sign of discomfort was her lips tightening into a thin line before she smiled again.

 

By now others had joined in, swirling around them. He caught a brief glimpse of Merlin dancing with Lady Morgause. They certainly made a nice pair, dark hair and pale skin next to bright blonde hair and lightly tanned skin.

 

He felt an odd tingle in his stomach, but he was distracted from it as Morgana’s foot landed none too gently on his toes. Clenching his jaw, he continued to dance, digging fingers into her side as payment.

 

By the end of the dance, he was battered and bruised and felt sure he’d won the battle but was soon to lose the war with her. Shrugging it off, he flagged down a servant with a tray of goblets full of watered down wine.

 

Grabbing one, he stepped to the side, watching the couples move from one dance to another seamlessly. Merlin was with a new partner, this time Lady Helen. He was right in assuming she was going to go after him. Her dress was a fetching yellow that complimented her creamy skin and brought out the brown highlights in her hair and eyes.

 

Again, that annoying feeling in his stomach, stronger, but he put it off to having eaten too much. Taking a sip of his wine, he watched his parents dance. There was so much love between them. You could just see it, from the way she stared at him, or the way he held her, as if she was delicate and too important to lose. For a second he felt envy. What would it be like to have someone love him like that and to love them like it in return?

 

Shaking his head for having such silly thoughts, he drowned the rest of his drink. As he handed it to a servant to take away, Merlin came up to him, skin slightly flushed from exertion. “How was your dance with Morgana?” He asked him, leaning on the wall to watch the other dancers.

 

“Murder.”

 

“That bad, huh?”

 

“I’m going to have bruises tomorrow.” He complained softly. Merlin just laughed at him, smiling his goofy grin. “So did Lady Morgause or Helen have anything interesting to say?” He watched him out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Lady Helen didn’t say much, but Lady Morgause kept asking me about magic. I kept changing the topic, but she was insistent. The dance finished before it got too heated.”

 

“Good. Wouldn’t want her getting any ideas about what to use magic for?”

 

“What, why?”

 

“Apparently, her father is in disfavor with Uther and her being invited here was done as a favor.” He explained.

 

“Oh.” They turned and faced the crowd as the musicians stopped and the dancers applauded. Lady Helen was moving to one side of the hall where a small platform had been set up for her to stand on.

 

People were moving to stand to the side of the hall or took a seat at the vacated tables, waiting for her to start singing. She was smiling sweetly at everyone as the crowd settled and the room descended into silence.

 

With a nod, the musicians struck a cord and she sang a ballad, voice full and heavy as she spoke of the tragedy that befell a solder in battle and the grief his mother felt upon hearing the news. Many of the women were discreetly wiping away tears by the end of it.

 

A small round of applause as it ended. She spoke softly with the musician and they nodded, setting their instruments down and settling into their chairs. Smiling again, she faced the crowded nobles and started to sing.

 

It was some foreign language, one he didn’t know. It was making him tired and feeling guilty, he gave himself a quick pinch to wake up. Looking over at Arthur, he saw the same thing happening to him. In fact, everyone but him was dozing off, falling to the floor as they lost their balance.

 

It was then he noticed the telltale tingle of magic as it ghosted over his skin. Looking around, he realized it was coming from Lady Helen. He quickly covered his ears, blocking out the source of the magic’s influence.

 

As he watched, dust and cobwebs seemed to grow over those who slept, as if they were statues that had been in a room for too many years. His heart was pounding as Lady Helen stepped down from her platform, coming down the hall towards him and Arthur.

 

She seemed to be speaking. “You killed him. You sent him off to battle and he was killed by those savages and now you’re trying to make peace with them. I cannot forgive you Uther Pendragon. For the loss of my son, you shall feel the same. You have only yourself to blame.” She stalked closer, seemingly unaware of Merlin’s presence.

 

Looking around for a way to stop her, he saw a large chandelier hanging over head in the path she was taking. Working quickly, he drew on his magic, unknotting the cord that held it suspended.

 

It came crashing down onto her with a dull crunch that made him wince and avert his eyes. He’d just killed her, killed a human. He had no idea how this would affect the talks, but he hoped it wouldn’t do too much damage.

 

People were rousing, many starting in surprise to find themselves covered in cobwebs and dust. He could hear Uther’s voice above the rest, demanding to know what had happened.

 

Arthur was stirring next to him from his slumped position on the wall. “Merlin, what happened?” He asked dazedly.

 

“She-” He was cut off by a scream of rage. Where there had once been a young attractive woman, an old crone lay pinned under the heavy light piece.

 

“I will not be stopped. You will suffer as I have, Uther Pendragon.” She shifted, light glinting on metal as she threw something with the last of her magic, falling to the floor dead.

 

He reacted without really thinking, stepping in front of Arthur. Something seemed to snap inside him, power flooding through his system as he focused solely on the approaching danger.

 

Its momentum slowing to an almost crawl. He wasn’t as fast as he should be, the blade sinking in an inch into his shoulder as it finally came to a stop. That broke the spell he had woven, people seeming to be moving again. There were screams and gasps as they took in the state he was in.

 

Arthur was yelling at him, calling him a great idiot. He just sat on the floor, clutching his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers in scarlet rivulets. Arthur was crouched beside him, hands on his as he tried to stop the flow of blood. Gaius soon joined them, medical bag in hand as he saw to the bleeding Druid.

 

By the time Gaius had him patched up; Uther had gotten control of the gathered nobles as some guards carted away the body of the dead sorceress and grieving mother. He came striding over, Ygraine by his side. “What happened?” He demanded, looking between Gaius, Arthur, and Merlin.

 

“Sire, has there been any battles with my people in the last few years?” Merlin asked instead.

 

“There was one two years ago. Some rogue Druids against the treaty started to attack some of our villages. We sent some soldiers to stop them, but most were killed before your own people intervened.” Ygraine answered, hand resting on her husband’s arm to stay any harsh words he might voice to the wounded Druid.

 

“Her son was among those killed. She was grieving, and against a treaty with the ‘savages’ as she put it. She wanted you to feel her pain. She used sound magic through her singing to put all of us to sleep. If I hadn’t noticed and counteracted it, Arthur and I would be dead.”

 

“Hmm, this will take some time to sort out. First, we need to locate the real Lady Helen. Do you wish to delay the talks while you heal?” Uther asked almost nervously.

 

“No, we have waited too long as it is. This wound will not affect me, so we will go on as scheduled.” Uther nodded.

 

Arthur was kneeling beside him, arm beneath his shoulder as he helped him to stand. “I’ll help him to his room.” He said. Uther just nodded, obviously elsewhere as he thought over this dilemma.

 

They were soon inside Merlin’s rooms, the paler than normal Druid seated on his bed. Arthur was pacing up and down the length of the room, movement making Merlin dizzy as his blood loss took hold. “Would you please stop that, you’re making me sick?” He asked, hand over his mouth, and skin a little green.

 

“Sorry.” He stopped and stared down at him. His temper finally seemed to get the better of him. “Are you insane?” He yelled out. “You could have been killed.”

 

“But I wasn’t, so stop yelling. I knew what I was doing.”

 

“No you didn’t. I can see it already. You’re going into shock from using too much magic at one time.” He grabbed a nearby empty pitcher and got it to him in time as he was sick from the shock to his system. “See, what did I tell you?”

 

“I’m fine.” He muttered. He was starting to sweat lightly.

 

Sighing angrily, Arthur tugged at the bell pull that would summon one of the servants. One soon arrived, slightly flushed from running. “Yes, sire.”

 

“Bring up some tea, not mint, and load it with honey.” The man bowed and left to get the drink. They sat in silence as they waited for the man to arrive. He arrived some minutes later, a tray laden with sweetened tea and cups in his hands. Setting it on a table, he bowed and left.

 

Pouring a cup, he shoved it into the trembling Druid’s hands. “Drink.” He took a small sip, letting the sugar laden drink slide down his throat. He almost instantly felt better. The sugar helped restore depleted energy and helped his hands to stop shaking.

 

“Finish that, and then it’s time for bed.”

 

“What are you, my mother now?” Merlin asked with a wan smile.

 

“For now, I am. Now finish that and get in bed.” He downed the rest of the tea, scalding his tongue a little. He started to strip off clothing, boots and socks falling to the floor without care. The jacket and outer tunic soon followed into the pile. Stripped down to his breeches, the knife wound stood out, bandages keeping the wound from harm.

 

“Merlin.” The Druid looked up at him. “You’re supposed to dodge it.”

 

“You say that, but it’s a lot harder to do then it looks, and you were behind me. I wasn’t about to let it hurt you.” He defended his actions.

 

“There’s just no arguing with you, is there?”

 

“Nope.” He grinned up at him.

 

“Go to sleep, you idiot. You’ve got a long day tomorrow and need all the sleep you can get.” Merlin just nodded and dived under the blankets. Arthur started to leave.

 

“Goodnight, Arthur.” He called out.

 

“Night, Merlin.” He shut the door softly behind him. He leaned against it, shaking still from the adrenalin that pumped through his system. Shaking himself, he headed off to find his father and see if he’d found anything out yet. He was wound up and wouldn’t have been able to sleep anyways, even if he tried.

 

~*~


	2. Part 2

The new day dawned bright and early, the morning light shining through a gap in the curtains to shine in the Druids eyes. Groaning, Merlin flung an arm over his eyes, only to realize too late that it was the shoulder he had hurt yesterday.

 

He sat up with a hiss of pain, clutching at his wound. Clenching his teeth, he ignored the hot throbbing in his shoulder and pulled back the bandages. It had been a bloody mess last night, but it was already half healed by now, a small merit to being a magical being. Looking into himself with his mind’s eye, he studied the steady flow of magic to his shoulder.

 

Another couple of hours, and it would nearly be gone. Enough time to pass before the talks which were scheduled to start after the noon meal. Tugging the bandage back into place with only minimal cursing, he stood up from the bed.

 

Glancing around, he spied a bowl of fruit and a tray with fresh rolls and a jug, not the one he’d puked in last night, full of clear water. Sitting down, he dug in, taking bites from an apple and a roll in turns.

 

By the time he’d finished, he was feeling refreshed and ready to face a court full of humans. Going through his wardrobe, he threw on what came to his hand first. Tugging on his boot, he left as he headed for the outside and fresh air.

 

Taking some of the back corridors to avoid any unwanted attention, he was soon stepping out into the sunshine, breathing in a lungful of crisp morning air. It was a nice morning, the only thing marring it was the shoulder wound and the fact that it was going to rain before night fell. He could feel the buzz of energy created by the far away storm, putting pressure on his skin.

 

Glancing around, he saw that the courts animals, the rat and mouse catchers, the guards dogs, strays, even the cuddled lap dogs were nowhere in sight, feeling too the impending storm. Sighing in envy, he would love to be back home curled up in front of the fire as he watched the lightening flash outside through magically protected windows.

 

Except he wasn’t home. He was here for a purpose and he would see it to its end. He would think about afterwards when it came to that. Shrugging off the itchiness the storm caused his skin; he headed for the one place he knew Arthur would be at this time.

 

He arrived just as the blonde delivered the finishing blow to one of Uther’s older and more experienced knight, the sword flying from the man’s hand. He seemed momentarily stunned, but he caught himself and bowed.

 

Arthur glanced over when he started to clap, a large grin sweeping across his face as he noticed who it was. “Merlin.” He called out. Spying a towel next to Arthur’s spare shield, he held it out to the blonde who nodded in thanks.

 

“Thanks.” He wiped his face free of sweat, setting the helmet under his arm on the ground next to his shield. “How’s the shoulder?” he asked, eyes glancing to the hurt appendage.

 

“Good. It’s nearly healed already.” His eyes roved over Arthur’s face, noting the dark circles under his eyes that made his golden face look almost gaunt. “Did you even sleep last night?” He asked.

 

“For about a few hours, but I woke up again and couldn’t get back to sleep.” Merlin could read the lie easily, but didn’t catch him on it. He was just being his usual noble self, trying to keep Merlin from worrying about him.

 

“So instead of trying to get some sleep, you decide that swinging a piece of metal around would be so much better.” He let the small sarcasm drip off his tongue, drawing an answering smile from the blonde.

 

“So Arthur.” One of the younger knights had walked up while they were talking. “Where did you learn to fight like that?” He asked a little awed from the sound of his voice. Merlin noticed many of the nearby knights turning to hear the answer as they pretended to not eavesdrop.

 

“The Druids, they live in a forest full of magical creature, not all of them are friendly. You have to be quick and good with many weapons if you want to keep alive.” He explained patiently.

 

“Really.” He started to talk in earnest to the blonde. Merlin let them talk, walking further onto the training field to watch other bouts of fighting.

 

“So, Merlin, do you use a blade?” A smooth voice asked behind him. He turned to see a knight behind him, blade sheathed as he leaned against a nearby wall. He was tall, almost taller than Merlin, with dark brown hair that was cut short. He was fairly muscled, with a strong jaw and nose that looked like it had either met a fist or a shield a couple of time, but he was…good on the eyes, if one thought of him that way. He wouldn’t pass criteria in Avlin, but here he was probably considered a catch.

 

Merlin smiled evenly. “Some, though I’m not as good as Arthur. My talents were elsewhere.” He said aloud.

 

“And where would that be?” His voice seemed to drop an octave. Merlin couldn’t help but smile on the inside. This human was trying to flirt with him, and not very well too. Smirking, he moved, body a blur as he brought his hand to within a few inches from the man’s face.

 

“Hand to hand combat was my specialty, well that and magic.” He explained, stepping back as the man stared at him in shock. He could hear Arthur laughing his ass off behind him.

 

“I wouldn’t try him later, if I were you Cardok. That was Merlin being slow. His shoulder _is_ still hurt after all.” Arthur crowed, clutching his side as he laughed again.

 

“Oh so witty, Arthur. Stop trying to scare the man.” He smiled back at the man, trying to reassure him. He got a creeping feeling down his spine as he noticed a strange gleam in the man’s eyes.

 

“No offence taken. Though perhaps, when your shoulder has fully healed, you would like to spare, with blades or without. I wouldn’t mind learning a few tricks.” He grinned at the innuendo he’d made, waiting for Merlin to reply.

 

Merlin rolled his eyes mentally, but replied nonetheless. “I will think about it, seeing as my schedule is going to be really busy from now on.” He bowed slightly to the man and walked off, sending a smile and wave to Arthur as he passed. He wanted to get to his rooms, take a bath, maybe read some letters, and get ready for the talks.

 

~*~

 

Arthur glared daggers at the man as he had his back turned. That Cardok had the audacity to talk that way to Merlin, _his_ Merlin. If the man had been anyone else, he would have beaten him to a bloody pulp by now.

 

He still couldn’t believe the man had the balls to proposition Merlin the Druid _Ambassador_ , of all people, even if it had been an innuendo, meant he was either politically inept, or just plain stupid.

 

Merlin was here for political reasons. If he were to get with anyone, it would cause a scandal and force him home since he would be seen as politically compromised and seen as favoring someone. Sheathing his sword, he made his excuses, grabbed his things and left for a hot bath. He too would have to be ready for the talks that were starting this afternoon.

 

Still seething inside, he sank into the heated water. What was worrying him though was whether Merlin had seen through it or not. Merlin was well… _Merlin_. Smart, occasionally an idiot and goofball. He was clumsy and yet graceful at the same time. He was one big contradiction. Add magic into the mix and he was something altogether unknown.

 

He was never sure what the Druid was thinking and what he would do next. He was an enigma and he enjoyed trying to figure him out. He only hoped Merlin had seen through Cardok and would refuse his advances politely. Sighing; he shifted about in the water.

 

Rubbing at his neck, his fingers brushed against a leather cord. Following it, he stopped just above a small stone the cord wrapped around. It was a pale blue crystal, short through with golden streaks. It was a gift from Merlin when they were younger. He’d kept it all these years, smiling every time he remembered when Merlin had given it to him.

 

~*~

 

_“Arthur, come on.” The small Druid pulled at the blonde’s hand, dragging him toward the house._

_They made it through and up the stairs and into Merlin’s room without anyone stopping them. “Sit.” He pointed to a stool near the window. Obeying the seven year old, he perched himself on the stool and watched as the Druid rummaged through his desk._

_The brunette turned around, something clutched in his hands. “Close your eyes.” Arthur did as told, listening to his light tread as he came closer. “Hold out your hands.” Something small dropped into his cupped palms._

_Opening his eyes, he looked down, eyeing the small, rough stone. It was uncut, the edges rough and formed into strange shapes. “Happy Birthday.” He said quietly as he stared down at his bare feet, nervously fidgeting with his tunic as he waited for Arthur to speak._

_Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a long piece of leather. He’d been planning to use it for something else, but it didn’t matter. He quickly tied it around the stone and then tied it around his neck. “How does it look?” He asked the younger boy._

_He looked up and seeing it hanging around his neck, smiled brightly. “Nice.” Arthur reached forward and pulled him in, giving him a playful noggie before letting him go._

_“Thanks.” Holding it up to the light, he watched as bright blues and golds flashed from it._

 

~*~

 

He held it up, letting light shine through it and watched the light play off the water. He couldn’t help but smile as he remembered that day. It had been the first thing he’d ever gotten from the pale Druid.

 

Smiling again, he let it drop, the cord catching it and letting it bounce on his toned chest. Quickly, he dunked his head under the water and lathered his hair up with soap. He needed to get ready soon if he was going to make it to the talks on time.

 

~*~

 

Arthur sat in his cushioned throne-like chair, waiting with the rest of those gathered for Merlin to arrive. He had come early just to make sure he wasn’t late. The doors opened with a soft groan and the hall quieted.

 

All eyes turned to the approaching Druid. He was dressed in his usual blues, though a hint of red stood out from his neck scarf. It was Pendragon red, a sign of unity with Camelot.

 

“Are you ready to begin, Merlin?” Uther’s voice rang out. Ygraine sat beside him, a gentle smile on her face.

 

“One moment please.” He bowed, and ignoring the chair offered to him by a servant, he sat on the floor. A few of the gathered started to mutter, but Merlin ignored him, concentrating on something else.

 

Arthur could feel the rise in the magic in the room. He knew what Merlin was doing, but refrained from saying anything until the Druid was done.

 

He looked up with golden eyes straight at the royal family. Golden light was falling from his hands pooling around him and flowing behind him. As they watched, it shifted, rising to form a sheet of soft light behind him that nearly touched the ceiling above.

 

Colors slowly entered, taking shape and gaining textures. He finally spoke. _“Your majesties, I give you the High Counsel of the Druids and the High Priest of Avalon, Maythn, newly appointed.”_ His voice had deepened, a hollow ring edging it.

 

As the images solidified, the court took in full the rulers of Avlin. There were thirteen in all, all varying in colors and builds. The oldest appeared to be a woman, her face lined with age and hair turned a steel gray.

 

One stepped forward. His hair was a light brown, long and tied back from his high forehead and pointed face. Eyes a dark violet, he seemed to give off an aura of power, even from so far away. He was tall, his robes hanging off of his thin frame.

 

Slowly and elegantly, he bowed. “Your majesties of Camelot may blessings and peaceful times grace you and your home.” His voice was a soft tenor.

 

Uther seemed to snap out of his shock for he bowed back and replied in same. Ygraine followed suit as did Morgana and Arthur, though Arthur bowed lower than they did. He’d grown up around this man and knew his power.

 

He continued talking. “I am Maythn, High Priest of Avalon. Long have we waited for this day, when our two peoples could come together and find peace at last. I hope that we can soon be considered one people and have no fear of war between us.”

 

“Let us work for a better future.” Uther replied.

 

“I have just one thing to say before the talks begin.” It was the oldest looking among them, but her eyes were trained on Merlin. Uther nodded and she continued. “This spell that Merlin is working is very complicated and power consuming, and although he is one of our strongest magic users, even he has limits. At the most he can hold it for about eight hours from this distance. It would be wise to keep the talks to less than that, near six. Afterwards he will need a day to recover himself. We will need to schedule our times together.”

 

All eyes turned to the seated Druid, but he remained oblivious, too far gone in the magic to notice anything else. His eyes were a continuous golden shine, light still spilling from his hands to replenish that lost from the wall of light behind him.

 

Uther nodded turning back to the Druids. “Then for now, we will stick to introductions and scheduling our talks.” She nodded sitting back with one last glance at Merlin.

 

~*~

 

Merlin stared gloomily out his thin strips of window at the dark and wet weather outside. He’d been right about the rain coming in late in the afternoon. At first it had been nice, cooling everything off.

 

Now it was just cold and wet and coupled with the draining he had taken today, it made him grouchy and a little depressed. Sighing, he shuffled away from the window and went to sit closer to the fire, letting the heat seep into his aching joints.

 

He felt like some old man with a weather predicting injury. Giving another sigh, he curled up in his chair and just stared into the fire, watching the different shapes it took as it incinerated the wood to ash.

 

He seemed to fall into some sort of trance-like doze, his mind far away as he slowly sank bonelessly into the chair. He didn’t even start when someone knocked at his door. It was like he was wrapped in cotton, and the outside world was muffled.

 

He did jump though when a tanned hand shook his shoulder slightly. “Huh? Wha?” He started, looking around and up at who had come in unannounced. Arthur just stared down at him, blue eyes amused, a small smile creeping along his lips as he tried to look stern.

 

“ _Mer_ lin, you’re supposed to be in bed resting.” He chastised the Druid.

 

“But I’m not tired.” He complained, loudly.

 

“Right.” He looked down at him skeptically. Ignoring his protest, he bent down and lifted him up with surprising ease, carrying the drained Druid to his large bed on the other side of the room. Letting go, he let him drop and bounce on the plush bed.

 

The Druid glared up at him. “I said I’m not tired.” The fact that he yawned just as he said this belied his statement.

 

“If you want, I’ll stay with you and talk until you fall asleep, but if you don’t rest Merlin, it will take you even longer to recover and it will delay the talks. Do you want that?” He asked eyebrow arched in question.

 

Giving a sigh in defeat, he pulled back the top most blanket and slid under, while he propped his back against the headboard. Patting the bed, he looked at Arthur. The blonde prince just smiled, sliding onto the top of the blanket and bed.

 

“Alright, since I was kind of out of it when the spell ended and I was too busy with the spell to listen while they talked, what happened?” He asked, looking over at the blonde.

 

“Just introductions and scheduling. Garna mentioned to them that you needed to rest for a day in-between talks, so they decided to schedule days they would talk. Uther will send you the schedule later.” He explained.

 

“Oh.” They continued to talk, often interrupted by Merlin yawning largely as the night closed in around them and the fire died down. By the time midnight had come, Merlin was asleep; head leaned against Arthur’s shoulders as he breathed in and out peacefully.

 

Arthur couldn’t help but smile, remembering many nights just like this, where they had stayed up late into it talking and both falling asleep leaned up against each other. Making sure he was asleep, he slid off the bed. Pulling the blanket back, he slid Merlin down onto the bed, his head resting gently on the pillow.

 

He stirred briefly, but Arthur soothed him back to sleep by stroking his hair softly. It was soft, and silky, running easily through his fingers. Smiling gently down at him, he pulled the blanket up and left, looking back once before he left to seek out his own bed. If he felt warmth in his chest, he attributed it to having such a close friend and nothing more.

 

~*~

 

The day was clear and the ground damp as morning dawned. Flexing his shoulder cautiously, he decided it was healed enough for a little exercise. He needed it after waking up this morning stiff and sore. It had been a long time since he’d used that much magic in one sitting and his body was making its complaints known.

 

Downing the rest of his breakfast, a mountain of items had been provided to get him back up to strength; he left to seek out the training field. He had a feeling Arthur was behind it, but he wasn’t complaining. Except for the last little bit, he had eaten it down with much enthusiasm.

 

Only a few of Arthur’s knights were up at the moment, along with Arthur himself. Seeing him, the blonde waved him over with a gauntleted hand. The blonde spoke as he came near enough to be heard. “How are you feeling?” He asked, looking at the Druid, eyeing him up and down for any sign of fatigue or stress.

 

“I’m fine Arthur. There’s no need to worry.” To prove this, he stretched his arms up, confirming that his shoulder was healed.

 

“I guess.” He replied reluctantly, still eyeing him. “So why are you here?” He asked the pale Druid.

 

“I wanted to spare a little. I’ve gotten out of practice recently and I need to loosen up after yesterday.” He explained.

 

Arthur grinned at his words. It had been a while since the two had last spared and it would be fun. It wasn’t every day that you saw a Druid in action. “Sword or fist?” He asked, letting Merlin decide.

 

“Sword, might as well put on a show while we’re at it.” The last past was said lowly for Arthur and the blonde prince smirked.

 

While Arthur went to grab an extra practice sword from the weapons shed, he set about stretching, working his muscles loose for the work out ahead. He just finished when Arthur came back with some light armor tucked underneath his arm, a sword in his hand and a chainmail shirt hung over his arm. They weren’t using shields for this.

 

~*~

 

By the time they were dressed appropriately for combat, a small crowd had gathered and was still growing. Arthur couldn’t help but smirk mentally as he noticed Cardok in the crowd. He was now going to see why Merlin had turned down his invitation to spare.

 

Very few could stand up to a Druid. They were usually faster and stronger than the average human due to their magical heritage. Of course, speed and power were useless if one didn’t have technique.

 

Merlin had learned alongside Arthur as they had grown and although Arthur had continued on after Merlin had turned to magic, and medicine, he could still hold his own against the blonde.

 

Grinning evilly, the brunette settled into stance, waiting for him to make his move. Arthur just smirked back and struck out and down, aiming for the Druid’s unprotected shield side.

 

A step back dodged it and soon they were into the thick of it. They kept their blows checked, knowing fully well how much damage they could inflict. Even with that precaution, sparks still flew as they locked swords, chests heaving and sweat running down their sides.

 

It was a close thing, but eventually Arthur got under Merlin’s guard and pulling off a move that only he could, jerked his sword from unresisting fingers. It landed with a clatter to a suddenly quiet crowd.

 

Merlin couldn’t hold back a soft snort at the amazed looks on their faces. What would normally have been a basic practice session for the two young men was now turned into some great big spectacle.

 

Arthur nodded, knowing what was going through his head. He walked over to the Druid and picked up his sword. “I think you should go rest now. It wouldn’t do for you to overdo it, _Mer_ lin.” He said a smirk on his lips as Merlin sent a mock glare at him.

 

“I guess you’re right. Wouldn’t want to get too tired.” He bowed slightly to the crowd and walked away, still clothed in his armor and covered in sweat and dirt.

 

He remembered this Merlin very well. Many a times, they would go exploring through the forest, old abandoned buildings, search ruins, and always, _always_ , came home covered in dirt and who knew what else. But it had been fun, to get away from the teachers and instructors, the books and training. To just, for a little while, have a day to themselves that didn’t involve politics. They certainly wouldn’t be seeing much of those nowadays that was for sure.

 

Putting those thoughts aside, he followed in his path, tired but happy. For now, he would take a bath and grab some lunch with the Druid if he could. Afterwards, maybe they could sneak off to do something. What was magic for anyways.

 

~*~

 

“Our people are willing to trade with you, but they fear that your people will see them as a threat and attack. We need to be sure of their safety before we decide anything.” One of the council said vehemently. He was one of the younger ones, with pale brown hair cut short in the front and longer in the back.

 

Kaeden had always been a good mediator. So far the talks had stalled the last two times they had gathered. Disagreements over trade, especially trade routes, had left both peoples fuming and willing to tear out a throat or two if they hadn’t been miles away from each other.

 

“Then what do you propose. We keep a guard on them constantly. That will just make them nervous, thinking the guards are there to keep the Druids from attacking. It would be the same for your people I am sure.” Lord Geraint said aloud, thick gray brows drawn together in a frown over their dilemma.

 

They were getting nowhere. They needed some way for their two peoples to coexist, but fear of attack kept them apart. Too many years, too many people had died on both sides for the fear and anger to be easily forgotten. The grieving mother from the banquet was testament to that.

 

“What we need is someplace neutral.” Arthur mused aloud, eyes distant as he thought. “Someplace where the two can meet and trade.”

 

“Near the border but away from any major dwelling place of either race. That would keep any locals from trying to get revenge.” Uther continued with his son’s thought.

 

“I see where you are going with this. It could be a yearly, seasonal, monthly thing, where they meet up and trade goods. This will take some time to plan out and I’m not sure if my people will agree with it yet.” Ywan, a tall woman with long black hair and equally black eyes rolled with it, face a serious mask.

 

“We have time to work these things out. As long as you are willing to put the suggestion out there, so are we.” Ygraine conceded, expression giving nothing away but serenity.

 

“It seems we are in agreement and in good timing since our time is nearly up.” Garna, time keeper of these meetings, said aloud, clapping her hands in finalization.

 

“Till next time.” Uther said to those gathered, head lowered slightly. The rest of the court followed suit and the council did the same. Slowly, the magic sustaining the image faded and Merlin’s eyes faded from glowing gold to tired blue.

 

He was paler than usual, but that was just the toll of the loss of energy. He sat back with a gasp, sweat dripping down his brow as he waited for the last of the magic to fade.

 

Arthur crouched down next to him. “You alright?” He asked him, eyeing the pale pallor he had turned.

 

“Yeah, just need a moment.” He wiped hastily at his forehead and sat up straighter. “See, I’m okay.”

 

“Good, wouldn’t want you to pass out on us.” Arthur grinned at that. “Well, you don’t have to worry about doing this for a few days. The first tournament is coming up tomorrow and you get to sit back and watch me in action.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll be stunning, in your usual pratish way.” Arthur just glared at him, but helped him up anyway.

 

~*~

 

The surrounding stands of the tournament field were packed to their max and there were even people standing at the edges of the field. Uther sat in a large throne-like chair on a raised dais. Ygraine sat to his right. To his left was an empty chair, placed there for when Arthur was not competing. To the left of that chair was another, though smaller. This one was for Merlin, giving him a perfect view of the field. With Morgana on the right of the queen, the dais was full, guards on either end keeping the enthusiastic people from coming up.

 

Merlin kept his face blank as he watched the current pair fight it out between them, swords clashing as shields nearly buckled from the force of impact. It was a very… rough display of swordsmanship. Their technique consisted of beating against each other with as much force as possible until one was knocked out or disarmed.

 

There was no finesse to it. It made him wince mentally as he listened to armor crunch and nearly buckle from a blow that would have severed the man’s arm clear off if not for the protective metal.

 

He gave a sigh of relief as the match came to an end with one man being helped off the field as he limped and held at his aching arm. He wasn’t going to be holding his sword for a while from the look of pain that made his face pinch.

 

Up next was the one he had been waiting for. It was Arthur’s turn to go. If he won this one, he would be facing last year’s champion, Valiant. Merlin hadn’t seen the man fight; he assumed he was good, if he’d beaten these heavy handed people.

 

As the last of the crowd quieted, Arthur stepped forward, blonde hair blazing brightly in the brilliant sunlight that filtered into the field. Another cheer rose up as their returned prince was announced. Only some of the knights had really seen Arthur fight from before the tournament. Many in the crowds wondered if their prince had what it took to become Camelot’s champion.

 

From the other side of the field, another man stepped. He was burly, with a long ginger beard that was graying at the edges. Thick eyebrows shadowed deep-set eyes and a large, squashed nose. Sir Morganor was a very large man who came from the western plains of this kingdom.

 

Turning, they saluted Uther who watched with an impassive face. They faced each other and saluted each other, smacking their swords together in a ringing clash of steel before they made their way to their part of the field.

 

Somewhere nearby, a small bell chimed and they started forward. If Merlin hadn’t been watching match after match since this morning, he might have started as they came together with a crunch, shields sliding against each other as sword aimed at their sides.

 

Pushing at Morganor, Arthur stepped back, nimble and light on his feet compared to the hulking giant of his opponent. Merlin was sure Arthur already had a plan to combat his opponent’s superior weight and experience.

 

He was right as he watched the blonde dart forward and take a shot at him before jumping back to dodge any blow, circling around him, making Morganor follow him or have him at his back.

 

He had expected Morganor to be frustrated by now, but he kept his cool though his face was getting flushed with anger and maybe excitement. They continued on for some time like this, as Arthur danced around him, bleeding his strength and blows.

 

Of course, he wasn’t always fast enough. Morganor landed a blow every one or two misses, but Arthur managed to catch most on his shield, which was starting to get a nice dent in it. They were both sweating in the heat, faces red and chests heaving.

 

He watched as Arthur went in for another confrontation. Morganor was expecting this and seemed to move with inhuman speed, turning at just the right time to stop Arthur’s blow and catch him by his breastplate. Arthur struggled to get loose, but Morganor kept reeling him in.

 

Morganor was raising his sword for a final blow. Arthur seeing this did the only thing he could. He dropped, putting all his dead weight into it. Morganor was put off balance; hold releasing as Arthur’s weight dragged at him.

 

Arthur rolled away, barely avoiding Morganor’s downward swing which sent up great clumps of earth. He came up without his shield which had come loose in his roll. Although he wasn’t next to him, he could feel the tension rolling of Uther as he watched Arthur. He was worried that his son would lose.

 

Merlin could have told him differently. This wasn’t Arthur at his best. Arthur had once taken on a griffin with only a spelled blade and no armor, not even a shirt, and had won. If he couldn’t take on this large human, then there was something seriously wrong with him.

 

He couldn’t hide his smirk as he saw Arthur change his stance, gripping his sword with both hands as the blade pointed at an angle down. He was getting serious and was aiming to end this sooner rather than later.

 

Morganor seemed to realize this as well, a large grin spreading over his hairy face. He didn’t even let Arthur come at him, charging at the blonde instead. They came together in a clash of steel, sparks flying as blades slid against each other.

 

They parted and Arthur came again, blade a blur of silver as he pulled off some complex move. It seemed as if his blade became a living snake of steel, the blade wrapping around Morganor’s own blade. A small amount of leverage was all it took to pry the length of metal from his ham-like hands and send it flying.

 

Wasting no time, he brought his blade back up, level with his throat. “Yield.” He commanded. Grinning, he took a step back and bowed. A roar of cheering seemed to break out as the crowd went wild. Yet Morganor could be heard above them all, voice loud and booming as he gave a hearty slap to Arthur’s shoulder, making him stagger forward.

 

Merlin clapped along with the rest of them, but remained seated until most of the crowd had piled out. The tournament was over for the day, the final match between Arthur and Valiant not until tomorrow morning.

 

Slipping out, he made his way back to the castle, none noticing his passage except for a few who knew who he was. The revelers had already reached the castle, many knights and nobles gathered together as they went over the last match. He could see a couple of knights reenacting it for the few who had no idea what had happened at the very end.

 

Arthur and Morganor were nowhere in sight. Walking around the edge of the crowd, he made his slow progress to the main hall. There was no feast planned tonight. That was for tomorrow to celebrate Camelot’s new champion.

 

Making it through with ease, he stood alone in the entrance hall for a second. No Arthur here either, but he could see Morganor walking down the hall to his quarters in the west wing where all visiting or long-term knights stayed when in Camelot.

 

Deciding to take the easy way for finding the blonde prince, he let his magic loose, seeking the aura of one whom he knew inside and out. It caught a whiff of his aura and followed it to end at his room where the blonde had sought peace and quiet from the boisterous revelers.

 

Raining his magic back in, he set off, taking a back route he had discovered in his stay here. Soon he was in front of a large wooden door. Knocking twice, he pushed it open and stepped through. “You know, you’re supposes to wait for my leave before you come in.” The prince grouched, as he sat in his chair, armor removed.

 

“Like that’s ever stopped me.” He smiled at him. He took in his posture and realized that he was hiding something. He shot an annoyed look at him. “You not going to try and be all noble by hiding the pain. Let me see it.”

 

Arthur gave an annoyed huff, but turned to show his left arm and side. A large bruise was starting to blossom over his tanned skin, and from the looks of how dark it was now, it was only going to get worse. “And you call me an idiot.” He shut the door behind him and came closer, already gathering his magic around him.

 

“You don’t have to. You’re supposed to be resting.” He tried to stop him.

 

“Arthur, just be quiet and let me do my work. You can complain when I’ve healed you enough to where you can sleep comfortable tonight.” He laid gentle fingers on tan and purple skin, just of the barest touch needed to allow his magic to flow into the blonde.

 

It sprang to his fingertips easily; always eager to please and help out the blonde when it came to healing. That was something that always made him smile. His magic always acted like some sort of dog, willing to do anything for the blonde whom he called friend.

 

Schooling his features, he let his magic catch him up and take him into the prince. Where it touched, flesh healed, swelling went down. He followed it to one rib which was bruised, but not broken and healed that completely. No need to skimp on that. A bruised rib could just as easily turn into a fractured or even broken rib.

 

Pulling out gradually, he laid a slow healing on to him which would eventually reach the rest of his bruises and aches. By tomorrow’s tournament, he would be healed enough to fight and remain limber.

 

Coming out completely, he looked at the blonde with a smile. “There, now I don’t have to worry about you losing because you were hurting.” He blinked, jarred completely from his trance-like state by the intense look Arthur was giving him, but it was gone before he could even figure out what it had been.

 

Face seeming to soften, he smiled back. “Thanks. I owe you for that.” He stood and quickly pulled on a clean shirt.

 

Scrambling quickly, he pulled himself together with much effort, pushing the look to the back of his mind for now. “Just win and that will be enough. I hope you don’tplan to make this a regular occurrence.”

 

He shook his head no. “They certainly don’t fight like what I’m used to. I had to change all my strategies. Those border knights certainly have a lot of tricks up their sleeves.” He admitted as he sat back down on his chair, only wincing slightly to the much reduced bruise.

 

“I guess you would need those in a conflict zone. Though, magical creatures are just as hard to take down as humans.”

 

“That’s for sure. Remember that griffin?” He grinned at that.

 

“Yeah. You decided we should go swimming and ended up stumbling on her nesting site. You’re lucky I was there or you wouldn’t even have been able to do any damage. Next time, look where you’re walking. I don’t like being put into situations like that.” He gave a mock glare at him while the blonde grinned sheepishly.

 

“It wasn’t my fault.”

 

“Yes it was. You are a magnate for magical trouble. Even…”He swallowed and pushed the grief away. “Even mother said so. She was forever pulling you out of trouble or making you take a warding charm to keep you safe when she was busy.”

 

“She always did have a way of scolding me, didn’t she?” He smiled fondly at nothing as he remembered. “Then of course there was you. Always losing control of you magic at the worst moments. Like the time you tried to stop a cart from running over a cat and ended up freezing everyone in a hundred yard radius. It took some explaining to get people to calm down.”

 

“So I have trouble with my magic, lots of Druids do. Sometimes though…I wonder how so much can fit in me.” He looked down at his hand, musing aloud. “I can feel it, just underneath my skin, waiting to get out. I either can’t use enough of it or I use too much and drain myself. I still have so little control.”

 

He let out a yell and fell over as something large and fluffy landed squarely in his face. Throwing the pillow aside, he glared up at Arthur. “What was that for?”

 

“You were getting all depressed on me and I didn’t like that. I mean jeez, _Mer_ lin. Can you be any more of an idiot. You’re not even twenty yet and you expect to be perfect. You don’t have to be perfect at it. Just so long as you don’t get me into any more trouble like the last time, with the flock of harpies.”

 

He’d been trying to call for only one, to talk and learn from it. He’d somehow called the whole flock and for some reason, they disliked Arthur and had chased him all through the forest until he found a way to call them back. Needless to say, Arthur hadn’t been pleased.

 

“I said I was sorry about that.” He gave a sigh. “Sorry, I guess I was just letting it get to me. Won’t happen again.” He stood and brushed off. “I better get going and go change for dinner. I’ll see you there.” He made it to the door before turning. “Thanks.” Arthur just nodded.

 

Opening the door, he stumbled on Gwen, standing there, looking surprised. “Oh, hi Gwen. Did you need something?”

 

“Oh, um, no…I was just passing by…and well you startled me. Well not startled, but I guess I just froze up and well…I better be getting back to Morgana.” She curtsied and scurried away, leaving the two men looking perplexed. Waving once more, he left, following Gwen’s path to seek out his own quarters.

 

~*~

 

“You’re sure?” Morgana questioned her handmaid.

 

The dark skinned girl just nodded. “I overheard them talking and you could just hear it in the way they spoke to each other. I think they’re both in denial.” She sat on a low stool, sewing one of Morgana’s dresses that had a ripped hem.

 

Morgana herself was at her vanity, getting ready for dinner that night. She set her brush down as she thought over this piece of information. “Positive?”

 

Gwen nodded. “I got a peak through the side of the door. I was really sweet, the way they looked at each other.”

 

She turned back to her mirror. “Hmm, if this is so, then we have some work ahead of us, if we are going to get them to realize anything. For now, we’ll remain low, just watching and listening. I don’t know enough about Druids to be definite about anything.” Gwen nodded, setting down the dress to help her mistress finish getting ready.

 

“I can talk with Freya. She’s the only one besides Arthur and the two knights who went with him who has spent any amount of time with him. She might know something.”

 

“You do that and I’ll try and strike up some conversation with Leon and Owain and see if they can enlighten me on either of the two.” Smirking, she set about with her plans, letting Gwen help her get dressed. Arthur and Merlin didn’t know what was coming and she wanted to keep it that way, for now at least. It would ruin the surprise if they somehow found out.

 

~*~

 

“Leon, it is good to have you back here after being so long away at your home estates. How was your family?” Morgana said sweetly as she stood near the knight.

 

“Fine, Milady. Older, but still just as I remembered them.”

 

“That’s good to hear.” They stood in silence, watching the dancers and groupings of nobles as they chatted amongst themselves. She could see Arthur and Merlin, a small gathering of knights and nobles around them as they told some tale from before their arrival in Camelot.

 

“It is strange, to be back among humans again?” She asked as the silence stretched on.

 

She watched him out of the corner of her eye as he turned to glance at her. He finally spoke, voice cautious as he thought over his words with care. “It is…shall I say, perplexing. I spent so long among them and gotten used to their ways, and yet barely scratched the surface. And now I am back home and have to start all over again to regain my lost footing.”

 

“What are they like? The Druid people.” She was slowly luring him closer to her chosen topic, but it was still trying her patience to be this subtle. Sometime, she wished she could just ask right out.

 

“A very secretive people. They revere power of any kind, placing the most powerful at the top. Yet they believe that even those at the top must work for a better life the next time they are reborn.”

 

“Reborn?” She was actually intrigued.

 

“Reincarnation, rebirth. They believe life is a cycle of life and death, where each time you die, you are reborn again in a different guise and station. How you lived in your last life will determine where you end up in the next.”

 

“That is…interesting. I wouldn’t mind studying it later on, once the treaty is completed of course.” Her eyes strayed to Arthur’s group. Merlin had disappeared somewhere, but Arthur seemed not to notice as he continued on with the story. “I missed him, greatly.” She said softly, scanning over the man who had come back in her little brother’s place.

 

“And he you. I remember a number of times, he asked for stories of the king and queen, and you too. I think he wanted to have a memory to work with and not just the locket her majesty gave him before he left.”

 

He had given her the opening she needed. “And Merlin, what was he like?”

 

“I’m not sure. He was an odd one, a mixture of childish innocence and sagely wisdom. It was a very strange thing to see in a child.”

 

“He seems to be really enjoying himself here. What was he like in…Avlin, was that the capital’s name?” She honestly wasn’t sure at the moment.

 

“Yes.” He stopped after that, as if unsure of what to say. “Among his own people…to my human eyes at least, he looked isolated. Most wouldn’t talk to him unless necessary. Those who did, I think they only did it because of his mother, a sweeter lady I’ll never meet. But again, I am just human and unsure of what this could mean.”

 

“Well, he doesn’t have to worry about it here. He’s got Arthur, and Gwen and I as well. Many of the knights seem to be friendly with him and others, more than friendly.” She said coyly.

 

“Cardok?” He said softly, glancing at her sideways.

 

“You noticed, too?” He nodded. “What I want to know is if it’s genuine or wanting of something unattainable?” She groused in annoyance. He could throw a crimp into her plans.

 

“I do not know my lady. He was not even a squire when I left for the Druid lands. I could ask the younger knights. They may know?”

 

She looked up at him. “Would you? I don’t want the talks going awry because some young idiot thought the rules didn’t apply to him.” He nodded. “Then thank you, that would be most helpful and I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for anything else like this.” He nodded again and bowed, excusing himself from her company to make rounds and glean information. She turned back to the gathering across the room and saw that Merlin had returned with a goblet in hand. What she had learned so far was enough food for thought to last for many nights.

 

She turned at a touch on her shoulder and found Gwen waiting to speak with her, her own information gathering finished. “We’ll talk after the feast. Go enjoy yourself for now.” Gwen smiled and curtsied before making her way to the servants table to get some food.

 

~*~

 

A light tap at the door had vivid brown eyes looking up from a stack of letters in front of her. Pushing a stray lock of hair out of her face, Freya Rowan got up from her bench and went to the door to see who it was.

 

Gwen, a small smile on her lips, nodded to her. “Gwen, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the feast with Morgana?” She asked, confused, but let the brunette in anyways.

 

“Milady gave me the night off, but it was getting really stuffy in there and kind of crowded, so I thought I would come and visit you. It’s been a while since we last just sat and chatted.”

 

“Oh, um, well come, sit down. I was just going over some last minute messages of Merlin’s, but I can finish them later. So, what do you want to talk about?” She sat down on the bench, Gwen snagging a nearby stool and sitting as well.

 

“Well…I know you would never say anything out loud, but I was just wondering if Merlin is treating you well. I know nothing of Druids and their practices, so I was just worried he might be doing something…” She trailed off as Freya shook her head.

 

“No, nothing like that. He treats me very fairly. It seems he really needs me, or he’d be buried under all the letters he receives.” She joked.

 

“What’s he like? I mean, I’ve spoken with him, but it was only briefly and I couldn’t really tell anything.” She asked, hands clasped in her lap.

 

“Well sometimes he does something odd that will totally throw me off, but usually, he acts just like any other noble would in this position. It’s just…mostly, he seems sad, like he’s missing something, but I think it just grief from his mother dying. And I want to help or at least do something that will help, but I’ve no idea what to do in this situation. It’s so confusing. What do you think I should do?” She asked the handmaid.

 

“What you’ve been doing, I think. Making sure he eats and stays healthy, help with his letters, just be there for him. You’re always so caring, Freya.” She smiled brightly at her friend. The woman flushed slightly, but smiled back. “Oh, I should be getting back to my lady. It was nice talking to you Freya. We need to do it more often.” The paler woman waved and smiled as her darker friend hurried out of the Druid’s chambers.

 

~*~

 

“Ah, Merlin, this is Sir Valiant. Valiant, Merlin Emrys, Druid Ambassador.” The Druid looked at the man before him. He was new, that much was certain. Short chopped brown hair, a firm square jaw and aquiline nose completed the image. He was wearing his family colors, a dull yellow tunic with his emblem of three snakes stitched over the heart.

 

“It’s a pleasure. I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting a Druid before.” He nodded to the Druid. Merlin inclined his head likewise. “I’ve only just arrived a few days before the start of the tournament and have been busy.”

 

“As we all have. I look forward to yours and Arthur’s match tomorrow.”

 

“I certainly can’t hold back, not when it comes to him. But for now, I bid you both good night, for I must rise early.” He inclined his head to Merlin and bowed to Arthur before giving his regards to Uther and Ygraine.

 

“So, what do you think?” Arthur asked quietly, following Valiant’s path through those gathered.

 

“He is certainly confident about the fight tomorrow. As far as I can tell, an ordinary knight. Though since I have not seen him fight, I can’t say anything about his skills.” He, too, was following the man’s path before he disappeared from the room. “I think I will copy him though. I’m tired. I’ll see you in the morning.” Arthur nodded to him and he left, making his own path to his room and bed.

 

~*~

 

The crowds seemed to have increased today, the noise they made as they cheered for their prince and last year’s champion. Merlin, for the most part, tuned the noise out as he tried to wake his tired brain up.

 

As the two combatants stepped forward, the noise gave one loud surge and then slowly died off as Uther spoke to the two. He ignored him as something else caught his attention. Somewhere in the area, he could feel the telltale signs of magic. It was faint, probably a small working, but he could feel it nonetheless.

 

Arthur and Valiant were already facing each other, ready to fight when he finally realized it was coming from somewhere in either the gathered crowd, or somewhere in the fighting ring.

 

He was jerked away from his quest for the source of the magic when the sound of sword striking sword rang through the air and his thoughts. Arthur and Valiant had started. Neither seemed to be going all out yet, just testing the waters, seeing how the other fought.

 

He remained only half aware of the battle going on in front of him, his mind, and magic, continually searching parts of the area for any trace of the elusive spell. It wasn’t in any of the crowds, though he did fell a few humans with the smallest trace of magic in them, inherited from ancestors past who had power.

 

The flash of light on metal drew his gaze back to the fighter. It was still going, neither seeming to get the upper hand as of yet, though it would be soon. As he watched, he felt the lightest tingle run over his skin, drawing his eyes towards its source.

 

His gaze stopped on Valiant’s shield. It was yellow, with three snakes on it, his crest. He sat forward intrigued, analyzing the spell as he spoke aloud to Uther. “I didn’t know you allowed spelled weapons into the fights.” He didn’t see Uther jerk and turn to look at him.

 

“What?” His face was turning a light shade of red.

 

“The use of spells in tournaments. If I had known, I would have done so for Arthur, though he complains he doesn’t need the help.”

 

“Who?” His face was darkening as what Merlin said sank in.

 

“Valiant. His shield is spelled. It’s crude, but effective. An illusion placed upon it until it comes into contact with flesh and then solidifies. What the illusion looks like, I don’t know.” The fighters kept on, unaware of the conversation taking place nearby.

 

As they pushed away from each other, Merlin let a dart of magic loose towards the shield, activating the spell placed there. The crowd gasped, and there were even a few high pitched screams as the three snakes came to life, falling from the shield to slither on the ground.

 

Apparently, they had a set of instructions, for they flew across the ground quick as a whip towards Arthur. They didn’t reach him, of course, but they tried. They kept running into a wall, one that slowly tore away at their insubstantial bodies.

 

“Halt the fight.” Uther’s voice roared over the crowd. He turned to Valiant. “You…you dare use magic in my tournament, against the prince.

 

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice rang out, all turning to look at the Druid.

 

He gave a huff of exasperation. “Fine, but don’t come complaining to me if you get hurt.” He waved his hand and the wall vanished in a shower of sparks that destroyed what was left of the snakes.

 

“On guard.” He told the knight. Valiant wasted no time in rushing at him. It seemed he realized he was in more trouble than he had thought. He probably hoped that winning would ease the punishment.

 

Except, he didn’t take into account who his opponent was. Arthur had learned to fight against both the magical and nonmagical. It was soon over as Arthur took his silent anger out on the man. Arthur hated cheaters just as much as he hated those who lied…and spiders, but that was something altogether.

 

Valiant was on the ground, sword at his throat as Arthur glared down at him. “For your stupidity, you will be punished. Since I do not want to deal with you, you will also be at the mercy of my father.” He turned and left, palace guards coming to take his place and escort the disgraced knight from the field.

 

Merlin, already anticipating this, had left while the royal family went to deliver punishment. He met up with Arthur just inside the courtyard. “You had to show off.” The blonde remarked.

 

“How was I supposed to know that magic was against the rules. Though I must admit, that piece of magic was very cleverly done, though still crude.” They continued up the steps, side-by-side.

 

“You’re hard to please when it comes to magic.” Arthur shot back, smirking when Merlin scowled at him, but said nothing. “Thanks though, for back there. I would have been in a pinch if those snakes had gotten a fang in me.” Merlin just nodded, keeping step with him into the depths of the castle.

 

~*~


	3. Part 3

The darkness outside his window was not enough to hold his attention, even with the sky dotted with stars and the barest sliver of pale moon. He was…not homesick, Avlin felt even less like home now with his mother gone from the world, but he missed the familiarity of it. Avlin he knew for sure what to do there, knew where he stood in the world.

 

He missed the forests most of all, the smell of dew on the grass as dawn broke out across the sky. The sound of thunder as is rolled across the sky, echoing off the distant mountains. He missed the known.

 

Here, it was all so new to his eyes. Arthur, having at least had spent a few years here before coming to Avlin, could understand these people. Here, where he expected to see tall looming trees covered in moss, he was met with pastureland as far as he could see. Instead of light stones, candles and torches. There were no magic users in the market performing feats of great power, for magic was few here.

 

Instead, there were humans, pulling sleight of hand tricks, petty illusions that left nothing to the imagination. He knew he was being snobbish, but when one grew up around magic, the lack of it made you treasure any that came your way.

 

The climate here was different than in Avlin. There, you could always find cool shade beneath one of Avlin’s many forest canopies. Here, where no trees grew and the sun shone directly on stone, the city baked. Stone that was cool in the morning absorbed the heat, holding it in until late in the night, keeping the city in a blanket of heat and humidity.

 

He pushed off from the wall, grimacing as sweaty skin stuck to stone momentarily. Tonight was one of those nights. The heat still lingered and already he had doused his room’s fire and stripped down to nothing but his breeches. And still he continued to sweat.

 

Oh, he could use magic to cool things off, call up a small shower, but he wasn’t going to. Since he’d first started to learn magic, it had been drilled in his head by both his teachers and mother: _Never mess with nature._ A change in the natural weather patterns here could cause a change elsewhere that could throw the whole cycle out of balance.

 

He sighed heavily. Making up his mind, he grabbed his tunic and threw it on, treading barefoot out of his rooms. Why stay in his stifling rooms when he could find a cool breeze on the wall or maybe one of the towers? A quick word laid a glamor over him, just one shadow of many, and he was off, steps light as a cat’s.

 

~*~

 

“I thought I’d find you out here.” A voice said softly behind him. Leaning backwards, he looked up at Arthur. He was dress similarly to Merlin, though he’d at least put on shoes.

 

Sitting up, he turned sideways on the wall’s edge, looking up at him at a better angle. He couldn’t help but smile. “You know, sometimes I think you know me too well.”

 

Arthur snorted softly, leaning on the wall next to him. “It’s not that I know you too well, it’s that you’re easy to predict sometimes.” They rested there in companionable silence, feeling the soft breeze coming over the wall as it cooled their heated flesh.

 

Finally, Arthur stirred, seeming to come out of a trance. Pushing off from the wall’s edge, he turned to Merlin. “You know Merlin, if you want to, you can talk to me. I may be a prat as you so aptly put it, but you’re still my friend. I won’t judge you.”

 

Merlin thought this over. “I know, but there are some things even you cannot help me with. I just have to deal with it on my own. Thanks though, it means a lot to me.” It was too dark to see Arthur’s flush at the serenity in his voice as he shifted on his feet embarrassedly.

 

Instead, he ruffled his hair affectionately. “Go to bed, idiot. I don’t want to wake up in the morning to learn you fell off the wall because you fell asleep up here.” He turned with a grin on his face and headed for the stairs.

 

“Prat.” Merlin called out, grinning goofily after the blonde prince. He remained there for a while longer, inhaling the scent laden night breeze. He could smell trees in the distance and hay. There was still some lingering smoke from fires and the smell of the city mixed in with it all: the small of dust, heated rock, dung, and sewage all mixed together.

 

Sighing again, he left his place on the wall and followed Arthur’s path back into the castle and to his rooms. They were cooler, the heat of the castle finally breaking. Crawling into his large bed, he lay awake for a little while, just relieving memories of times spent running through green dappled shadows as he chased a blonde head of hair ahead of him. With those happier times in mind, he fell asleep shortly, at peace for the moment.

 

~*~

 

It was like this every time he came here. Stares, wherever he walked, looks from mistrust to curiosity, all beamed his way. He sighed inwardly, but for the most part kept his face composed. He was in the market for a reason and he wasn’t going to let them scare him away.

 

He slowed to a stop in front of the stall he was looking for. An herb and spice seller, her wares spread out in baskets and roughhewn wooden bowls. He inhaled softly, taking in all the familiar and unknown scents that wafted from the many items. He loved coming to this stall, and if the woman didn’t trust him completely, she didn’t turn away his money, or in this case Gaius’ and she didn’t stare so.

 

Smiling thinly, he set out selecting the items Gaius had asked him to buy. He would have come himself, but had been called away to an emergency at the last second. He was surprised when she smiled back at him, but tried not to show it as he handed her the money Gaius had thrust upon him.

 

Picking up the small basket with everything nestled inside it; he promised to send one of the servants back here with it and headed off. The traffic of bodies was in the streets was low as he made his way back to the castle.

 

He was about halfway there when he rushed to stop a man from toppling to the ground a few feet ahead. Merlin turned him over, taking in the pale pallor, prominent blue veins and the dilated pupils. He shook as if chilled, but it was a warm day out. “Are you alright, sir?” He asked politely, concern mixing with dismay as the man’s condition struck a nerve. He felt he had seen this somewhere, but where?

 

The man didn’t reply, couldn’t reply to his question. “Come on, let’s get you to Gaius.” Pulling his arm over his shoulder, Merlin half carried, half dragged him towards the castle. If people had dodged him before because of his looks, they downright shied away when they took in the man’s condition.

 

He turned to one of the guards around the wall of the courtyard. “Please find Gaius.” The man nodded and went off in search of the Court Physician. He was nearly to Gaius’s chambers when Arthur stumbled upon him.

 

“What the devil are you doing, Merlin?” He asked, taking in the picture of the two.

 

“He collapsed in the marketplace. I’m taking him to Gaius.” The prince sighed, but stepped forward anyways, helping him carry the man the rest of the way. The guard made true on his word, for Gaius stood in the door, concern on his face.

 

“Bring him in here.” He motioned to a small cot that had been set up in the room. They lay him down gently, Gaius going to work as he examined the man. Finally, he stood. “I’ve never seen this before. Have you any knowledge on what it might be?” He turned to look at Merlin who was seated on a low stool, staring at the man.

 

“I…I’m not sure. I think I _have_ seen this illness before, but for the life of me, I can’t remember. Arthur?” He asked the blonde. He might remember.

 

“I think there was something similar to this some years ago. Remember, when you and Hunith went to one of the outlying villages to their shrine.”

 

“I remember, but I can’t remember what caused the sickness. If mother ever told me, I’ve forgotten, since she was the one who went off and stopped whatever it was that caused it.”

 

Gaius sighed, eyeing the man. “This is very troubling indeed. I’ll have the guards keep an eye out for any others like him.” The two young men nodded.

 

~*~

 

A week later and the sickness was still growing. The original man had died two day later, but now five more had joined him. At the moment, it was spreading through the lower town, but soon it would make its way into the castle proper.

 

The Druid council had no notion as to what it could be, or they said they did. None had been there for the other outbreak, and even Maythn, his mother’s successor, had no idea as to what was causing it. It appeared his mother had never written down its cause.

 

Merlin worked alongside Gaius on his resting days, tending to the sick and trying to help him figure out how the disease was spreading. “I don’t think it is spread by touch. Many of these people would not have associated with each other.” He was right too. Already, one of the guards had come in, a few servants who lived in the lower town, and citizens as well. None from the outlying villages of Camelot reported having the sickness, which meant it, was confined _to_ Camelot.

 

This, in turn, ruled out spreading by air. If none of the villages had any sick, then those who came to and from were not spreading it that way either. “Do you think it’s being spread through the water supply?” he asked the aged physician as he held a cup of water to a servant girl, her skin deathly pale, the blue of her veins, a stark contrast.

 

“It might, but the lower town isn’t the only place that uses that water. It should have hit the castle just as hard, but they are only just now being affected.”

 

“Well, those in the castle tend to have better health than those in the lower town. Maybe they’ve been strong enough till now to fight it off and it’s just getting stronger.” He stopped moving as he went with that thought.

 

“If that’s true, then it would imply…”

 

“…magic.” He finished.

 

He sat down heavily as he went over this newest piece of information. Magic could mean anyone, human or Druid. They might be long gone by now. He needed to figure out what it was that started the sickness. This meant a trip down memory lane to see if his mother really had told him what caused the sickness.

 

He stood with a determined aura around him. “I’ll be back, Gaius.” The old physician nodded, watching him leave.

 

Instead of taking the back ways he normally took, he went by a direct route, ignoring the looks of servants and nobles alike as he made his way towards his destination. He needed solitude and more importantly, he needed open space. He could have gone outside, but there would be people there, and someone would be sure to follow him if he tried the forest or an open field.

 

So instead of heading out, he headed up, flying up the steps once he was sure no one was watching. Camelot had many towers, placed at varying heights. The one he climbed wasn’t the tallest, but it was certainly high enough to leave him winded as he finally made it to the viewing platform.

 

The wall was some distance below, but the few guards the dotted this section had their eyes focused out and down, not in and up. Taking a deep breath to slow his still racing heart, he settled down on the wind scored stones, his back pressed against the balustrade for support and as protection from the strong buffeting winds.

 

Slowly, he forced his body to relax, letting his magic well up from inside. But, instead of sending it outwards, he sent it in, to his core, to his mind. It sluggishly seeped into his mind, like rain into soil, until eventually, he was fully immersed.

 

Instantly, memories sprang to the forefront of his mind. He brushed them aside, heading in deeper, further back in time. If he was correct, he had been twelve when his mother had brought him along to that shrine. He always assumed it was a ploy to try and get him to join the temple.

 

Images and sounds assaulted his senses from all sides, random snippets from his past. He paid them no heed as he descended further in. He slowed down, his magic guiding him to the memories he sought.

 

Gently, with some trepidation, he reached out and touched the image, his magic drawing it in, showing it in his mind’s eye.

 

~*~

 

_Merlin sulked as he sat on a stool in the room. His mother ignored him, bending over an ill man, a metal smith, who was unable to rise to work. He didn’t want to be here. He’d wanted to stay home and be with Arthur. They had planned on going on a small hunting trip, but his mother had changed their plans, dragging him along with her on a trip that she normally wouldn’t have taken him on._

_Finally she stood, speaking soft words to the man before leaving, beckoning Merlin to come along. It was dark out by now, the sun only a few remaining shreds of light on the horizon. They were headed back to the temple for the night._

_The table was silent as they ate. Finally, she looked up at him. “Tell me, what do you think of this sickness?” She asked, setting her eating utensils down as she turned her piercing gaze on him._

_Swallowing, he set his own cup down as he thought about it. He may not want to be here, but he could still help. “It’s strange and fast acting from what we’ve seen. Is it something magical?” He asked her, looking up._

_She nodded. “It is a very strong and negative magic. Note I say negative and not evil.” She said to her son. “Magic is neither inherently good nor evil. It is the person who wields it and their intentions that make it do evil things.”_

_“But what about all the magical creatures that attack people for no reason?” He asked her, always up for a debate._

_“Magic feeds them; it is the creature’s nature that guides them.” She explained patiently._

_“But what is causing the sickness?” He asked her, filing the information away for later study._

_“It is caused by a creature called an Afanc. A creature created from earth and water, it spreads its disease through the water in which it lives. It is rare that they appear on their own, but not unheard of. Mostly they are created by magic users, but this one appears to be natural.”_

_“How do you stop one then?” He asked her, interested._

_“You tell me, what is the opposite of earth and water?”_

_“Fire and air.”_

_“Very good. I will be going out tomorrow to deal with it. While I’m gone, you are to continue your studies and then we will leave the day after.” He nodded enthusiastically, happy to hear that they would be leaving soon. He wanted to get back to Arthur._

_“Merlin.” He looked up, but his mother had left the room._

_“Merlin.” He looked around again._

 

~*~

 

“Merlin.” His eyes flew open and he threw his hands out in front of him to keep from falling face first onto the stones beneath him. He gasped for breath as his racing heart slowed down. He was covered in sweat and he felt like he’d run a mile.

 

“Merlin.” He looked up to see Arthur crouched next to him, face worried.

 

“I’m alright, just tired.” He panted out.

 

“What were you doing out here?” He asked blonde brows knitted as he helped him sit back up.

 

He stood stiffly, muscles complaining as he moved from his cramped position. “I was remembering.” He explained. Arthur just blinked, confused. “I was trying to remember what it was that caused the illness.” He elaborated.

 

“And did you?” he asked, hope springing into his eyes.

 

“Yes, and I know where to find it.”

 

Things went by rather quickly after that. They made it to the bottom of the stairs without incident, and to Gaius’s rooms. He explained quickly to Gaius and Arthur what and where the Afanc was.

 

Gaius gave them the key to the reservoir underneath the castle. Arthur tried to get him to stay, saying he was still out of it from his magical memory trip, but Merlin shook his head, saying he was the only one who could help Arthur stop it.

 

Eventually, he gave in and they headed for the door that led down to the still pools. It was dark, the torch they carried barely illuminating the stone walls and passages they passed through. The place smelt of water, still water. Occasionally, they heard a pebble fall or the dripping of water from the ceiling, but other than that, it was silent.

 

“Can you fell anything?” Arthur hissed at him quietly, although his voice still bounced off the walls.

 

“Vaguely, but it’s hard to tell.” The things essence seemed to be everywhere at once. He jerked around at the sound of something scraping along stone walls. “What was that?”

 

Arthur turned, too, sword already drawn in one hand, torch in the other. They both spun around as something sounded behind them, catching the briefest glimpse of light shining off a wet, malformed body before it disappeared into the gloom.

 

“It’s fast.” Arthur said aloud, following after it. Merlin jumped forward, grabbing at his jacket and pulling him back as the Afanc took a swing at him from a side passage he hadn’t noticed. “Really fast.” He huffed out as he parried another strike from it.

 

“Arthur, use the torch on it. Steel won’t hurt it.” Arthur nodded, sheathing his sword and brandishing his torch at the Afanc. The creature shied back, fleeing the dancing red flames. Arthur too another step forward, driving it back. Merlin reached for his magic again, fueling the flames on the torch, guiding them to the flammable flesh of the Afanc.

 

The creature shrieked in fear and rage as its flesh caught. He wasn’t finished though, drawing on his magic again to conjure up a gale force wind, whipping the flames dancing along its flesh into a frenzy, making them burn hotter and brighter.

 

The Afanc gave one last shriek before it collapsed back on itself, turning to ash that was scattered by the remaining wind. Arthur turned back to look at him. “Who do you think sent it?” Merlin didn’t even ask how he came to that conclusion. He knew it had been sent. There wasn’t enough magic here in Camelot for it to have been created naturally.

 

“I don’t know, but I think you mean who was it sent for?” Was it sent for Arthur, Ygraine, or Uther because of the alliance, or for him, the Druid? It would take some time to figure out who had sent it. In the meantime, he would rather sit.

 

He did just that, sitting heavily as the magic he had used today took its toll on his strength. With his draining from yesterday combined with today, his stores were nearly depleted. “You alright?” Arthur asked, coming to stare down at him.

 

“Yeah, but I think I overdid it.” Arthur just arched a brow as if saying _‘you think’_. He smiled wryly up at him. Arthur sighed, but still helped him up.

 

News of their victory was greeted with much enthusiasm and cheering. Arthur maneuvered them through the grateful crowd of people, helping a lagging Merlin to his rooms. Eventually, people noticed Merlin’s state and they left them to make their slow progress through the castle.

 

In his rooms with the door shut, he helped the pale Druid undress to his underclothes, and into bed. “I really hope you don’t plan to make this a habit.” He joked, sitting on the edge of his bed.

 

“Oh, shut up, Prat.” He griped, but he still smiled at him.

 

“Get some sleep, _Mer_ lin. We can’t have you fainting on us tomorrow.” He dodged Merlin’s swatting hand and, ruffling his hair playfully and left the room.

 

~*~

 

“What?” Merlin asked as he and Arthur leaned against the fence surrounding the knight’s practice field. It was an off day for him, meant to give him rest while the two parties discussed the latest demands that this treaty had brought up.

 

“King Bayard of Mercia will be arriving here in a few weeks to celebrate a treaty that my father has finished with them.” Arthur explained patiently.

 

Merlin thought this over as he watched the two current knights in the ring duke it out with maces. “Your father has been a busy man.” He finally said aloud. Arthur snorted but waited for him to continue. “So what has this to do with me?”

 

“Well, for one, he mentioned in his letter that he would like to meet with you. A peaceful Druid among humans is almost unheard of.”

 

“So what, I’m some circus attraction now?” He asked waspishly. It seemed he was always being watched like some great attraction, some rare beast that was watched in curiosity or in fear of attack.

 

Arthur just arched a brow at him. “You knew this would happen when you said yes to coming with me.”

 

He let a sigh loose. “I know. I’m just tired right now. And I _do_ know, but for just a little while, I’d like to be able to walk among them and not be the center of attention.” He explained.

 

“Well, you could always use a glamor, but that not what you meant.” He said as Merlin let out a huff in exasperation. “Merlin, you don’t think you’re the only one who’s always in the center of attention. I have to deal with it, too.”

 

He sent him an apologetic look, but didn’t say anything. “Alright, come on. Let’s spare. It will get your mind off of things for a little while.” He pushed and shoved at the reluctant Druid towards the weapons shed.

 

~*~

 

“Ready, Merlin?” Arthur asked him just outside of the doors leading to the banquet hall. It was an odd sense of déjà vu, the two of them standing there waiting to go in. This time though, Merlin was more experienced with these things, less nervous.

 

“I guess. Let’s just get this over with so I can go back to bed.” The horn blared and the doors opened, letting noise and light out to momentarily deafen and blind them. Blinking, they walked in.

 

The seating was the same as usual, the high table on the other side of the room, Merlin’s table just below it, and four long rows of benches for the others. Except, there was an extra chair at the high table next to Uther.

 

King Bayard of Mercia was a large man with chestnut colored locks that only had a few grays to give evidence to his age. A large beard was neatly groomed and trimmed on his cheeks and chin. His colors were the opposite of the Pendragon colors: blue to Pendragon red and silver to Pendragon gold.

 

The tables were fairly evenly split, with Mercian and Camelot knights sitting on opposite sides. As Arthur and Merlin walked down the main isle, figures in blue turned to stare at the first Druid they most likely had ever seen. Merlin just gritted his teeth and ignored them as he left Arthur to take his seat at his own table.

 

It was like his first feat here all over again. All the new comers were scrutinizing his every move, comparing how he acted to the myths that humans created about his people. Still, he ignored them through the many courses of the feast from the fish soup to the mincemeat pie at the end.

 

Except that it was the end of the feast that would be the hardest to get through. Now he must socialize with these people, most specifically, Bayard. Sighing, he wiped at his mouth and stood slowly as the others did likewise. Already he could feel a headache pounding just behind his eyes.

 

For the next half an hour, he circulated, talking with visiting knights and nobles. He was dissuading a knight about what a Druid would normally eat, _again_ , when he looked up and saw Arthur and Uther walking over towards him, King Bayard following behind them.

 

“Excuse me.” The man nodded, turning to his other companion, as Merlin walked over to meet the three royals. “Your majesties.” He bowed slightly to the three.

 

“Ah, Merlin, just the one we wanted. King Bayard was just asking if he might have a brief talk with you. He has some interest in the Druidic culture.” Uther said aloud, looking pointedly at the paler man.

 

He nodded. “I am at your disposal. Please, ask away.” Uther nodded and left, drawn away by another noble with a question for him. His talk with Bayard was actually not as horrible as he thought it would be. The man asked intelligent questions and listened politely as he answered, not overriding him with his own theories.

 

It was only an urgent matter that one of his nobles brought to him that ended the discussion. By now, Merlin was feeling the effects of the strong wine and rich food he had had already. He really needed to get away for a few minutes to catch his breath and cool down from this body packed room.

 

Telling Arthur he would be back in a few minutes, he made his way as quickly as he could from the room. Even then, it still took ten minutes to walk from one side of the room to the other as people tried to talk with him.

 

It was with a heartfelt sigh of relief that he made it out of the banquet hall to the hallway. He made a quick dash for one of the nearby balconies and flung himself onto it. He drew in lungfuls of cool night air, feeling the sweat on his brow cool as the night breeze feathered his bangs.

 

It was dark out, the stars a shining brocade of light, the moon, a small portion of its full glory. Outside, all was quiet, the towns people already abed in preparation for the morrow. The only souls out at the moment were guards and a few of the older banquet guest who were making their way to their beds.

 

Straightening up, he jerked around at an alarmed squeak behind him. A woman stood in the balcony entrance, eyes large as she took him in. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. It just, I needed to speak with someone and it’s so important…” She faded off.

 

She was fairly tall, not as tall as him though, with pale unblemished skin, midnight black hair and deep blue eyes that looked almost black in the dark out here. She wore a servant’s garb, colored in Mercian blue.

 

“You may talk with me if you like.” He coaxed her, smiling gently so as not to startle her again. “What is this great matter?” He asked.

 

She glanced around, checking for others in the area, but none were near. Taking a step forward, she said softly to him. “There is a plot afoot.”

 

“A plot?” he asked, brow furrowed in thought. “Who’s?”

 

“King Bayard. I overheard him talking to one of his advisors. He means to poison your Prince…or the King, whomever he can get at first.” She said nervously, glancing around fearfully for spies that weren’t there to catch her betrayal.

 

“Do you know how?”

 

“No, I wasn’t able to see since I was behind his changing screen, but he said something about their love of wine.” She told him.

 

“I will go at once and stop it. Thank you for informing me. What is your name by the way?” he asked her.

 

‘Oh, please, no. If they were to find out, I would surely be killed.” She exclaimed in alarm.

 

“Alright, don’t tell me, but I must go.” He left without looking back; feet carrying him swiftly back to the banquet hall. As he neared the doors, he slowed, catching his breath and smoothing down his wind swept hair.

 

His entrance went unnoticed for a few minutes, enough time to locate Arthur and Uther. Uther was on one side of the room, opposite his position. His hands were empty; he drank only a little wine at feasts like this to keep from getting inebriated and doing something stupid. That left only Arthur.

 

The blonde was close by, hands empty for the moment. He quickly walked over to him. As he arrived, a servant, in blue, brought him a fresh goblet of the wine that flowed so freely tonight. He acted without thinking, and reaching out, snagged the goblet from his hand. He quickly drained it before the Prince could snatch it back.

 

“That was a little unorthodox, Merlin.” He complained to the Druid.

 

“What can I say? I just got really thirsty all of a sudden.” The Druid smiled as sweetly as he could to the blonde. Arthur just shot him a glare and flagged down another servant, this time in red, and got another goblet.

 

He quickly took a sip before Merlin could snatch it from him. Merlin couldn’t help but smile. He had to fix it in place as something inside him clenched. “I think I’ve had enough of this banquet for one night. I’m going to bed.” He told the prince.

 

“I’ll help you back. You’ve had too much wine to be very coordinated.” Arthur offered.

 

“No, no. I can make it on my own. You just stay here. I’m sure they would rather hear what Avlin looks like from a human than a Druid anyhow.” He smiled at Arthur and waved at Morgana as she headed for the Prince.

 

~*~

 

“Arthur.” Morgana said to him. She didn’t get to continue as a woman screamed. The two siblings turned as one to see what had happened. A small crowd had gathered around something. They hastened over to them, pushing through those gathered to see what or who was in their center.

 

“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, pushing his way through with more force until he could come to the pale Druid who lay on the floor. He was sweating heavily, his body shaking as if wracked with cold. He turned him over onto his back, trying to get his attention.

 

The goblet in his hand rolled to the floor with a clatter. Staring at it with some trepidation, he lifted it up and sniffed. The unmistakable scent of strong wine came back, but there was something underneath it. It smelt like…

 

“Mint?” There hadn’t been mint in the wine. He’d made sure of that. “Quickly, help me get him to Gaius.” One of Camelot’s knights came forward to help pick up the poisoned Druid.

 

The crowd parted to let them through and they trotted at a steady pace to Gaius’s work room. Not even knocking, the door was thrust open, the old physician jerking up from his bed in surprise. “Quickly, Gaius, we haven’t much time.” The physician stood from his bed, motioning them to his surprisingly clear table.

 

Merlin was lain down gently as Gaius looked over him. “What’s wrong?” The older man asked.

 

“He’s been poison with mint.” Arthur described.

 

“Mint, but it’s not a poison.” He stated confusedly.

 

“Among Druids, it _is_ a poison.” He explained, turning to the man. “Where is your Hemlock?” He asked him.

 

“Hemlock?” He raised an eyebrow at the prince.

 

“Gaius, we don’t have time for questions now. Just get me your Hemlock.” The physician complied, rummaging through his many bottled concoctions to pull out a small, nondescript one with ‘Hemlock’ written in spidery script on a faded paper label.

 

Quickly, he snatched it from the physician’s hand and turned back to the slowly dying Druid. Plucking out the cork, he motioned for the other knight, just now noticed that it was Sir Leon, to hold up his head.

 

Opening his mouth slightly, he steadily poured in three drops of the fluid, letting it trickle into his mouth. He held his breath, letting it out in a rush as Merlin swallowed it down. The seconds ticked by as they waited.

 

Gradually, his shaking stopped, his chest rising and falling in even strokes. He cracked his eyes open, staring up at Arthur who looked down at him in worry. “What−” His voice broke and he swallowed again. “What happened?”

 

“You were poisoned…” Arthur said softly. “…with mint.”

 

Merlin let out a hoarse bark of laughter. “I’m such an idiot.” He choked out.

 

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked as Leon laid him back onto the table, a pillow provided by Gaius to support him.

 

He explained to them in a few words what had taken place on the balcony. Arthur was tense as he finished. “Who would do this? It would mean war with the Druids.”

 

“That’s probably what they wanted.” A voice said behind him. Uther stood in Gaius’s doorway, Ygraine and Morgana just behind him.

 

He strode in. “How many know of this weakness of your people?” He asked the Druid.

 

“It would not be common knowledge among humans. It must be either one of the humans who live on the edge of our forests or…” He stopped.

 

“…another Druid.” Arthur finished, face grim as they thought over this new line of thought.

 

~*~


	4. Part 4

The forest was alive with creatures of all sizes, going about their lives, not caring about the political power play happening up at the castle of Camelot. He wished he could join them, but he was at the center of it all. If he left, then everything would fall apart and he wouldn’t do that to Arthur or the Druid people.

 

It was a cloudy day, shadows shifting constantly as clouds scuttled across the expanse of blue that was the sky. It was peaceful here and for a few moments at least, he would enjoy it to its fullest.

 

~*~

 

He stopped when it went silent. He could feel a tension in the air as the forest life held its breath in anticipation of something…something large. He glanced up as a shadow passed over, but the sun glared in his eyes and all he could make out was a large body of mass coming at him when his world was knocked sideways.

 

He heard a loud screech and thump as whatever it was landed in the clearing he had been passing through. Whatever it was that had knocked him down rolled them to the side as a razor sharp beak jabbed at the space they had recently occupied.

 

Looking down, he came face to face with sharp brown eyes in a tanned face, long black hair disheveled from rolling on the ground, leaves sticking out from it. “Lancelot?” He asked, confused as to how this man had appeared.

 

He didn’t answer as he stood to face the creature‒a griffin upon closer look‒ and charged. Merlin reacted on instinct, magic lashing out to pull the man back away from slashing beak and claws. If he landed harder than Merlin intended, he would at least survive. “Don’t.” He called out.

 

Standing from the ground he slowly approached the feathered and furred creature. Bright yellow eyes watched him intently, judging when he would be in striking range. Another step and the griffin lashed out with his beak, aiming for Merlin’s arm. He stopped it with a glance, eyes still blazing gold from before as his magic jumped readily to his call again.

 

It screeched in defiance as it remained frozen to the spot. Merlin rested a gentle hand on its outstretched beak. The creature shuddered at the touch, but he ignored it, looking into bright predatory eyes.

 

“Oh wing friend. Your heart has been grievously twisted by a cruel hand.” The griffin screeched again, straining against his magical hold. Before it could break free, he drove his magic through his hand into the griffin, spreading it out through its body.

 

It gave one high pitched shriek and shuddered and then fell silent. Slowly, he released his hold on it until it stood free of his binding. Yellow eyes studied him curiously, head cocked to the side in contemplation. Finally it took a step forward, bumping its head against his chest in friendship.

 

Merlin smiled at the gesture. “Go; fly free with a heart unclouded.” It pressed forward one more time, sending a mental image of its thanks and backed up. With much wind churning and dust raising, it rose above the trees, headed east back to forests it knew.

 

“You know, you didn’t have to throw me so hard.” A stoic voice said behind him. He turned to look at the brunette before him. As tall as he was and well-muscled, he could have passed for any human, if not for the elongated ears hidden by long hair and the hidden dark bronze flecks in his eyes.

 

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to do that.” He grinned sheepishly. The brunette just continued to stare at him. “Why are you here?”

 

“To do my duty, protecting the High Priestess’s family.”

 

“No, your duty as temple guard is to protect the High Priest.” He said annoyed.

 

“I am no longer the Captain of the Guard. I promoted my second-in-command when I heard of what has been happening to you here. I came personally to continue my duty. Though the counsel were hinting at it before I left.” He explained to him.

 

“Well, I don’t need a bodyguard.”

 

~*~

 

“You need a bodyguard.” Arthur told the Druid at dinner. Lancelot stood at ease as the royal family looked him over. In shining chainmail and light gray tunic with brown breeches, sword belted at his waist, he made an impressive figure.

 

“But‒”

 

“No buts. I can’t always be there to protect you and he can help with things I can’t.” Arthur told the pale Druid as he sulked.

 

“Tell me, are you like Merlin?” Uther asked him. None saw Merlin stiffen in unease as he waited for Lancelot to answer.

 

“In what ways?” He asked evasively.

 

“Magic wise.” Uther said, not seeming to notice the silent conversation going on between the two Druids as he waited for him to answer.

 

“Magic, no. My skill lies in my sword. I don’t have enough magic to use it anyways.” He explained.

 

Uther mulled this over then nodded. “I agree with Arthur. Another set of eyes will make a great difference in keeping someone from killing you.” Merlin still looked rebellious. “Beside, you’re not the only one with a bodyguard. We all have one, as a precaution.” Morgana, Ygraine and Arthur nodded at his statement.

 

Merlin sighed. “Fine, if it will make everyone happy, then I see no problem with Lancelot staying.” Uther nodded, making the statement final.

 

~*~

 

Merlin waited until they were enclosed inside his room before turning to his new bodyguard. For a few minutes, the room was silent as they studied the other. Finally he had to asked. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

 

For a few seconds, he was silent as he considered his words. Finally he spoke. “It was not for me to tell.” He said simply. Merlin couldn’t help but feel grateful for those words. “But…” And he paused for a second. “…eventually, you will have to tell them.”

 

For a second, Merlin remained silent, then he nodded. “I know…it’s just, I don’t know when I should or how. It’s not like this is an everyday thing.”

 

“That maybe, but it will come out eventually, whether you want it or not. And even if I will not say, it needs to be pointed out that there are others who are not so inclined.”

 

“I know, but so far all focus has been on the treaty then on me. For now, I will keep in the background.” The bodyguard nodded. He turned for the door, his rooms adjacent to his own on the right. “Oh, and Lancelot?” He turned back to regard the paler Druid. “Thank you.”

 

“There is nothing to be thanked for.” He turned once more and left, the door shutting with a quiet thump.

 

~*~

 

Crystal shattered as she let her temper get the best of her. Taking deep breaths, she cooled down, waving a hand to fix the ruined crystal sphere. She turned back to the stone basin, hand skimming over the water to bring the lost image back.

 

The griffin flew high above the ground, but flew it did, in the opposite direction she had sent it. She couldn’t feel her spell on it anymore which meant only one thing: that that _stupid_ boy had interfered in her plans again.

 

Frowning slightly, she waved her hand, and the image shifted from blue skies to a crowded market place where a pale young man walked next to a blonde. They were laughing over something, the blonde’s arm slung across his shoulders as he steered him through the crowds.

 

Not only had her plans not worked, but now it appeared he had a new ally. The image zoomed in on the darker male behind them, a dark shadow for one of _such_ importance. She sneered at the thought. Yet for one so low, he had a lot of power.

 

Her plan had been to kill the prince. A whispered word in a grieving human woman’s ear had influenced what was already in the witch’s heart and making her act without fear. She had been stopped, the boy’s power making itself known as he enforced his power over time.

 

The next one, someone able to get closer to the prince. A knight of the pathetic human kingdom. An idea planted in his mind about defeating the prince at any cost to remain champion. Foiled again when he sensed the magic layered into the shield.

 

She decided to go with something even subtler. Instead of going after just the prince, she went after the whole city, using something few knew about. Except, the boy again interfered, somehow having knowledge that few had.

 

So she changed her plans, _again_. Instead of going after the prey, she went after the protector. Even going so far as to go herself to implement the plan, though in a glamor strong enough to fool the stupid boy. And it had worked. He’d gone running off, thinking the danger was to his charges as the trap snapped shut on him instead.

 

And for a few brief moments, she had savored victory. Then she had checked back in expecting to see a corpse. Instead, she was met with a very much _alive_ annoyance. She knew only one person who could have known the cure and if she could have, she would have killed the stupid blonde prince.

 

It appeared a physical attack would not work on either of them. That meant an attack from the side, on one they would expect to be safe. This would require some planning, but one was already starting to weave itself in her mind. All she needed to do would be to tweak a few threads to get it all in place.

 

She looked down once more at the image in the water. Blue eyes flashed golden in the sunlight as the light struck golden flecks in his eyes as he smiled at his prince. Soon, those eyes would be lifeless and unseeing and he would no longer have anything to laugh at. Smiling, she flicked her wrist and the image faded away to leave the water once again clear. Turning, she headed for her workroom. She had things to do.

 

~*~

 

Merlin woke from a sound sleep to soft, insistent tapping at his door. Extracting himself from his blankets, he called out. “Enter.” Freya gently pushed the door open and walked in. Merlin sat up; frown on his face as he tried to figure out what she was doing here so early. “Freya?” He asked, confused.

 

“There’s a problem.” She told him softly, fidgeting with the sleeve of her dress. He motioned for her to continue. “Something’s happened to Morgana.”

 

~*~

 

The room was quiet as Gaius bent over Morgana, examining her. Merlin stood in the back of the room, Lancelot stood beside him, watching as the physician plied his trade with efficient hands and eyes. Finally, he stood back.

 

“Well?” Uther asked, Ygraine beside him with worry etched on her face.

 

“It is hard to tell, sire. I have not been able to see any outward signs of distress. I fear it may be something internal. I will need more time to determine what exactly it is.” He nodded glancing anxiously at his ward.

 

“You have it and anything else you might need. Please, save her Gaius.” The older male nodded and the king and queen left. Arthur stood to the side, face hard and unreadable as he stared at his step-sister’s unmoving body, the rise and fall of her chest the only sign of life.

 

Gaius turned to look at Merlin. “You know some healing magic, am I right?” The Druid nodded, seeing where this was going almost instantly. “Do you think‒”

 

Merlin shook his head sadly. “The stuff I know is centered on Druid anatomy. I know too little of human bodies and their limitations. I wouldn’t know what to use or how much and I might accidentally kill her in the process.”

 

“It was worth a shot.” He showed them out the door. “I have work to do.” And shut the door with a snap.

 

The two men walked from the room in silence, feet and souls heavy as they contemplated the scene from before, Lancelot trailing behind, an unobtrusive shadow. Merlin blinked as sunlight blinded him momentarily and he noticed that they had made it to the front entryway, courtyard busy as usual, unaware of the tragedy unfolding within.

 

“Sire.” A voice called out nearby.

 

Arthur jumped and turned to look. A man stood a short distance away, head bowed slightly as he waited for the prince to acknowledge his presence. Finally Arthur gestured for him to speak.

 

He looked up and Merlin couldn’t help but stare at the image before him. The man’s face, on the right side, was a mass of scar tissue that pulled his features into a permanent scowl. Sandy brown hair and dark eyes completed the image. His robes were travel stained. “I have heard that the Lady Morgana has fallen ill.”

 

Arthur just stared, remaining impassive as he waited for the man to continue. “I wished to ask for an audience with the king. For you see, I might have something to help her recover from her illness.”

 

“And what is this thing that _might_ cure her?” He asked him.

 

“Why, a remedy to cure all ills.”

 

~*~

 

Merlin stood back as Edwin went to work on Morgana. He replayed his brief conversation with Gaius over and over again. _“Gaius, is there really a remedy that can cure everything?”_ He’d asked in a hushed tone as the man talked. _“I’m not sure. There may be something out there, but until we can see it work, then it is best we remain watchful.”_

 

So here he stood, observing the man as he examined the pale woman on the bed. Something seemed to put him off about this scarred man who _just_ happened to be here the moment Morgana took ill and it was not his looks. The man seemed to ooze secrets and shadows.

 

He jerked back from his thoughts as the brunette stood. He turned to Uther. “It is hard to see, but it appears to have magical origins, strong magic to affect her so greatly.” At those words his glance flicked towards Merlin before coming back to the king. “I have just the thing to nullify the magic.”

 

“Oh, thank you so much.” Ygraine smiled in gratitude at the man.

 

“Yes, thank you. If there is anything you wish for as a reward, all you need do is speak up.” Uther proclaimed.

 

“I am honored. If I could have some privacy, I will administer the treatment.” He answered smoothly, voice like oiled silk.

 

“Of course.” He and his wife turned to leave.

 

“I would very much like to observe the treatment so as to broaden my knowledge. Something this rare comes once in a life time.” Gaius spoke up.

 

“Unfortunately, I have not perfected this remedy yet and would not wish your knowledge to be only halves and parts. I would be willing, later, to discuss the details of course.” He replied easily.

 

“Come, Gaius. Give the man some space.” Uther ordered. The physician could do nothing but bow to his king and follow him out, Merlin, Lancelot and Arthur just behind him. Edwin sent a pointed look at Gwen.

 

“But, my lady must have someone present in the room.” She defended.

 

“I wish for privacy.” He said evenly, though he glared at her. “You will leave and wait outside the door.” She looked between Morgana, Edwin and Arthur who stood in the door with Merlin. Arthur motioned for her to leave. Shoulders sagging, she left, shutting the door behind her.

 

~*~

 

The next morning, she was up and about as if nothing had ever happened. There was much rejoicing among the royal family. Merlin stood back and watched, bereft on what he should feel. He was overjoyed for Morgana’s recovery, but envy bubbled just underneath that, making his stomach churn and coating his tongue in a bittersweet taste. With his mother gone, he had no such family members to rejoice at his recoveries, to hold him when he was sad or happy. He didn’t even know who his father was.

 

He had Arthur, but a friend could only do so much. He was alone in the world, caught between the Druid world and the Human world, trying to mediate between the two while still trying to hold himself together.

 

It is a hard thing to face, knowing that even in a crowd, you stand alone. He pushed these thoughts away, watching Gaius’s face. He appeared to be skeptical still. To have been so close to death, Morgana had recovered faster than should have been impossible without the aid of some sort of help.

 

Turning, he left the overcrowded room, passing Gwen as she stood just inside the door. The halls were fairly empty, most servants busy elsewhere in the castle than this particular hallway. He stopped as footsteps sounded behind him.

 

He turned to see Edwin standing behind him. He raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for him to move first. The scarred man smiled thinly. “It is an honor to finally meet a Druid.” The man said aloud. Was there something in his voice, some sort of hitch? He couldn’t tell.

 

“What is it like, to be all alone?” Merlin tensed. This was too close to his earlier thoughts for comfort. “Here I mean, among so many humans. You must find us strange.”

 

“Not really. Humans and Druids have many commonalities and I was not alone. Arthur and his two bodyguards were there in Avlin with me, so I am not unused to human contact.” He explained evenly in what he dubbed his ‘political’ voice.

 

“You’re right. I am sorry to have made such an assumption. Well, I hope the best for you and you’re people.” He stepped forward to clasp his arm in a firm grip. Merlin forced himself to not shudder in disgust at the touch. The man’s aura felt repulsive on his skin, like crawling bugs.

 

He let go and nodding to him, headed down the hall to his own set of rooms. Merlin stared after him, wondering what he had felt.

 

~*~

 

Morgana did not come to dinner that night, still feeling somewhat faint from her ordeal, so the affair was small and light. For the most part, talk was to a minimum as they ate. Arthur wolfed his down quickly; impatient to get it finished so he could go see Morgana.

 

Again, Merlin felt a bubble of jealousy at this act, but he suppressed it. Arthur had every right to be concerned over Morgana seeing as how he had almost lost her. So he hid behind a mask of cheerfulness and once his meal was finished, retired to his rooms.

 

He gave Freya the night off and quickly dressed for bed. His sleep was fretful at best and his dreams weird. He dreamt of creeping shadows, something crawling along his flesh and something buzzing away in his ear.

 

He awoke the next morning with no memory of his dreams and as tired as he had been when he went to sleep. He stayed in bed the rest of the morning, dozing lightly until Freya knocked at the door and informed him that his bath was ready.

 

Slowly he pulled himself from his bed and trudged out of his room. The bath steamed gently and he quickly washed, covering yawns the whole time as he prepared for the talks in a few hours.

 

~*~

 

Merlin walked down the hall listlessly, ignoring everything around him, including his silent bodyguard, as he left the dining hall for his rooms. Normally, he felt tired after a draining, but this was not normal. Weariness ate at him with every step. A bone deep tiredness that made him want to lie down and never rise.

 

Merlin. “Merlin.” He jerked at the sound of Arthur’s voice. The prince was coming up behind him.

 

“Arthur.” He acknowledged.

 

“You alright, Merlin? You don’t look so good.”

 

“Just tired. I was headed for my room to lie down.” He explained to the prat, I mean prince.

 

~*~

 

“Hmm, hold still. You’ve got a bug on your neck.” Arthur said aloud, leaning forward. Merlin stood still in front of him as the prince used gentle hands to flick the bug off of the Druid.

 

He jumped as Merlin started to fall, catching him just as he reached the ground. “Merlin?” He called out. The Druid just lay there, pale in his arms, as he breathed in shallow breaths. “Merlin!” Still nothing, even after a stinging smack to his cheek. Arthur looked up, Lancelot stood there looking around for some hidden danger. “Go find Gaius. Something’s wrong with Merlin.”

 

~*~

 

Merlin stared about himself in confusion. The last thing he remembered was meeting Arthur outside of the dining room in the hall. He tried to sit up and felt nothing. No response to his mental command to move.

 

He glanced down and saw his body…but something was wrong. He held his hand up, and though he saw it move, he felt nothing. The wrong part was that he could see through his fingers, but his brain seemed only able to process a single thought at a time at the moment.

 

He looked around himself instead. He was in a strange room…and everything was _bigger_ than him. He finally noticed the darkness behind him. It was cold, and uninviting. It made him think of death…and cages.

 

A door slammed closed nearby and he glanced up. Edwin came into view and he was huge. Merlin distinctly remembered being taller than this man. “Ah, so you’ve come to.”

 

 _‘What have you done to me?’_ He tried to speak, but nothing would come out.

 

“No use trying to speak. Unless I say so, you will remain mute. Though I can guess as to what you tried to ask.” He held up his hand, a small black beetle rested in the center of his palm. “This was how. Normally, it is used as a torture device, eating away at the soft tissue of the brain, but when a certain spell is said over it, it gains a very _special_ property. For a short time, it is able to absorb the soul of one individual of the sorcerer’s choosing.”

 

For a moment, he gloated, but then his face closed over. “Unfortunately, I miscalculated how large a Druid soul is. It was only able to absorb about three quarters of your soul. Your body is still alive, though only partially. Where normally, it would have died automatically, it will take a few days. It matters not, for I have you where I want you.”

 

‘ _What did I do to you?’_ He asked him.

 

He seemed to listen to something and smiled sardonically. “It is not you. It is your people.” Merlin waited for him to continue. “Your people killed them. Killed my parents, when all they ever did was heal people. All because they were human. I will never forgive you or any other Druid. And I found the perfect way to get revenge. With you dead and out of the picture, the peace talks will fall to pieces. Uther will have no choice but go to war once the Druids attack due to your death.”

 

Merlin’s heart sank at those words. They were mostly true and war would break out. All these years of hard work for nothing. Edwin stirred from his revive. “Well, I must go and _see_ to your body. Rest for now.” He lifted a piece of heavy velvet and draped it over whatever it was that held him. He heard the door open and close then silence descended.

 

Merlin beat against the barrier that separated him from the living world, but nothing happened. He didn’t even feel the pain of the blows that would normally have bruised and bloodied his hands. _‘Arthur…Arthur!’_ He yelled as loud as he could from a mute throat.

 

~*~

 

Arthur jerked as a cool breeze brushed across the back of his neck. Pushing off of the wall he leaned on, he stalked to the opened window and shut it, blocking off the breeze. He turned back and stared at the still figure in the bad.

 

It felt like a bad sense of déjà vu to him. He’d almost lost Morgana and now he was about to lose Merlin as well. Both Edwin and Gaius had seen to the pale Druid and found no external causes. It was an almost identical illness to Morgana’s; except that Merlin was a Druid and what affected humans should not have affected him like this.

 

He glanced up as both Gaius and Freya walked in. The servant girl carried a tray laden with food and drinks for the three men, though he doubted Lancelot would eat any. She curtsied to him and left, shutting the door behind her and enclosing them in silence.

 

“Gaius, what is wrong with him?” He asked desperately.

 

“I’m not sure. What was he like before it happened?” He asked the blonde. It was a natural question since they spent so much time together, but it still made his gut clench in guilt.

 

“He appeared to be tired from the draining, but that is normal.” Lancelot supplied.

 

“I…I don’t know. I was so focused on Morgana that I didn’t even look. When I met him in the hall, he said he was tired and was going to lie down. And then there…” He stopped, remembering something.

 

“What?” Gaius asked him.

 

“There was something on his neck, some sort of bug.”

 

“Do you remember what kind?” He asked him, desperate for any piece of information.

 

“A…beetle I think, or close to it. I flicked it off and then he just collapsed. Why, is that important?”

 

“Hmm, maybe.” They fell into silence. The flames in the fire place the only noise.

 

They both jerked as Merlin moved on the bed, arm jerking slightly. Arthur stared in shock as a whisper of voice escaped from barely moving lips. _“Arthur…Arthur!”_ Had he been any further away, he would not have heard it.

 

“Merlin? Merlin, I’m right here, what wrong Merlin?” He asked aloud, hand reaching out to touch his now limp hand.

 

For a few minutes he said nothing, the room silent once more. Then he spoke again, voice even softer. Arthur leaned closer to catch his words. _“Dark…can’t see…can’t feel…lost…”_

 

“Where are you Merlin?” He asked desperately, hand dropping down to rest on his limp hand. He tensed as something brushed against him mentally, and then relaxed, recognizing the presence. Even on the verge of death, Merlin was still powerful enough to do this.

 

He let the presence in, letting him show a mental image of what he could see. Arthur frowned. That looked like somewhere in the castle. The link grew weak and he was forced to surface back in the real world. Opening eyes that had closed, he blinked as he noticed something he hadn’t been able to see earlier.

 

His brush with Merlin’s mind had left him with after effects of his magic, namely, he could see the link between Merlin’s body and wherever that other part of him resided. It was a thin gold line that stretched out and went _through_ the door.

 

Ignoring Gaius’s questions and telling Lancelot to guard Merlin, he shot up off the bed and went running to the door. He had to get to the end of the link before his new found sight disappeared. Throwing the door open, he sprinted from the room, taking random turns towards the other end of the link.

 

~*~

 

He slowed to a walk as he neared the door. The golden thread seemed to end here, unless it went through the outer castle wall and outside. He knew this room for he had escorted Edwin here after he had cured Morgana of her illness.

 

Gripping his borrowed sword, he’d left his in Merlin’s room and had grabbed one from a passing knight, toed the door open until he stood in the threshold. The room was empty, the bed neat and tidy, as was his work table. The opposite of what he associated a physician’s work room to look like, even one that was just visiting.

 

He stalked forward near silently, ears trained for any sign of attack, magical or otherwise.

He glanced around, trying to gauge Merlin’s perspective from the image he had shown him. He glanced at the table again and saw something covered in a dark brown velvet cloth. Merlin had said he couldn’t see; that it was dark.

 

He took a few cautious steps forward, eyeing whatever it was that lay under the cloth. It didn’t move so he guessed it to be somewhat safe. Cautiously, he reached out and gripped the soft material in his hand, pulling it up slowly.

 

It came off easily without snagging on anything. He stared down at strange looking mirror. Normally, the surface of a mirror was silvery, reflecting any sort of light back. This one was black and seemed to draw in all light around giving no reflection.

 

He stared at it and slowly, a form seemed to take shape before his eyes. Pale skin stood out sharply against the dark material, black locks blending in. “Merlin!’ he said aloud, stepping forward and falling to his knees before the mirror, staring at the pale Druid trapped inside.

 

In his haste, he had dropped his borrowed sword to the stone floor, intent only upon his friend. That was his mistake. It leapt into the air as magic welled up around him. He turned to see Edwin standing in the doorway, sword in in hand as he stared at the prince.

 

“I guess I underestimated him again. I will not do it again.” His voice was cold and clipped. Arthur stepped in front of the mirror, hiding it from the sorcerer’s view.

 

“Move aside you foolish boy.” He growled at the blonde prince.

 

“No, I will not let you kill him.” Snarling, he flung the sword at the prince, magic carrying it further then strength alone could do.

 

Everything seemed to happen after that. Something shattered behind him, sending a spray of shards everywhere. At the same instant, the sword slowed to a halt, frozen in midair. Something seemed to push it back and it started up again, headed back to the sorcerer. It came to a quivering halt embedded in his chest, sending him tumbling to the floor.

 

He turned to find the dark mirror gone. In its place was a small pile of shards and dust where it had stood. He couldn’t see anything around, so he turned and ran, headed back through the castle towards Merlin’s room.

 

~*~

 

He burst in to find Merlin sitting up in his bed, very much alive and smiling at him. He strode forward and pulled the Druid into his arms, ignoring Gaius’s and Lancelot’s presences in the room as he assured himself that Merlin was back. “I’m alright, Arthur.” He just held on tighter, shaking slightly as he came down from his adrenalin high.

 

Merlin was back to his old self the next day, but Arthur still kept an eye on him, making it up to his guilty conscience for having ignored Merlin those two days and missing his bad health. He wouldn’t let the Druid try and talk him out of his guilt, so instead they agreed to disagree and got back to their lives and the peace talks.

 

~*~

 

For the most part, life went back to normal. Or as normal as can be in a kingdom seeped in magic. There was still the occasional magical incident where a witch’s pet got loose, or a sorcerer’s spell got out of hand.

 

Merlin was called on only a few times to deal with these since there were other magic users in the surrounding villages to help out. There was one case that he had taken personal interest in though.

 

Before Merlin had arrived, Morgana, the king and queen’s ward, had suffered from horrific nightmares. Gaius was at his wit’s end trying to stop them. Sleeping draughts only put her to sleep and kept her from waking from them. Tonics did little but keep her calm.

 

And although he had an idea about what was plaguing the noble woman, he didn’t have tangible proof of these theories. And then Merlin had arrived, with years of knowledge stored in his brain about magical ailments and anything to do with magic.

 

Within a week, he had pinned down what it was Morgana suffered from. _“You are very fortunate I came along when I did. Few who bear the gift of foresight can keep from going mad without help. You are also very lucky to be given such a gift. Seers are rare even among my people and are revered with the rest of our upper society.”_ He’d smiled at that and had gotten to work fixing something for her, with Gaius’s help.

 

 _“This will help you greatly. Although it will not stop the visions, it will keep them from overwhelming you. You will be able to observe your visions and analyze what they might mean. But remember, visions only show you part of the whole, and what you see might not even pass. Trying to change the future will only speed things up in some cases.”_ Morgana nodded and took the draught that Gaius handed to her.

 

Soon after, her sleep was peaceful, with Gaius making a new potion for her once a week. Although most of Camelot had known of Morgana’s nightmares, only the royal family, Gaius, Merlin, and Gwen, Morgana’s maid, knew about Morgana’s abilities.

 

So when she had a vision that she thought must be known, she told one of the ones who knew, letting them pick it apart for its kernel of importance. Now was no different as he watched the pale beauty pace the small room she had dragged him into.

 

She didn’t even seem to notice Lancelot standing guard by the door. He stepped closer. “Morgana, is everything alright?” He asked her.

 

“Merlin…” She turned to look at him. “I’ve seen something horrible and…oh, god, I don’t want to even contemplate it.” She was shaking with nervous energy.

 

“First off Morgana, calm down.” She looked at him then nodded. Taking a deep breath, she tried to relax the tense set of her shoulders. Seeing her relax slightly, he guided her to a nearby seat. “Now, tell me what you have seen.”

 

“It…it was Arthur.” She blurted out.

 

“I don’t see how Arthur alone has put you into this state.” He commented dryly, trying to lighten the mood. She shot him a halfhearted glare. “Alright. So what has Arthur done to warrant your distress?” He asked her.

 

“I’m…I’m not even sure it was him, but…it just felt like him…” He motioned for her to continue. “All I could see was light, filtering through water and…a woman, pretty, with light brown almost blonde hair. She was dressed in gold, golden light all around her. She was watching, just watching and as it went on, she was getting further away. I think she was drowning him, Merlin. Drowning Arthur.” She let out a soft sob.

 

“Shh.” He whispered gently, stepping forward to wrap an arm around her shaking shoulders. “There’s no need to worry. I will personally make sure this future does not happen.”

 

“But you said…” She started, pulling back.

 

“Sometime, the future must be rearranged for the good of time as a whole.” He told her sagely.

 

~*~

 

“Emrys, is this a wise idea?” Lancelot spoke once Morgana had left. Merlin had remained in the room with his back to the door and his bodyguard.

 

“What else is there to do? If Arthur dies…who know what will happen to the peace talks. He is as vital as I am. Besides, I don’t want him to die.” He went on stubbornly, watching the sun rise higher in the sky.

 

He could just make out Lancelot’s reflection. The darker Druid bowed. “Very well, but there may be consequences for this meddling in the future. Are you willing to do this only to cause something worse?”

 

Merlin spun around, anger blazing in his eyes. “How can saving a life cause something worse?” He demanded hotly.

 

He was taken aback by the look in his bodyguard’s eyes. “Fate does not like it when you mess with her plans.” He said simply.

 

Merlin felt a chill run up his spine at the man’s words. He nodded mutely, but said nothing, not sure what he should say.

 

~*~

 

“Come on, Merlin. It’s one of our few days off, no talks, and no scheduled events.” Arthur cajoled the pale Druid. Merlin gave a weary sigh, but finally he nodded in ascent. “Good, then meet me in the front courtyard in ten minutes.” Arthur walked off, leaving the Druid standing in his doorway, watching him leave.

 

He turned to look at Lancelot, who had been in the room talking with the other Druid when Arthur had knocked. “Well, looks like we’re going hunting today.” He was shocked to see the grin spread on the Druid’s face at the coming fun.

 

~*~

 

The forest was silent as the three men headed out. There were others, but they had headed out already in a different direction. They planned to meet up later on. For the most part, they stayed on the trails, following them as they headed for the denser forest. They were after larger game and needed to head in deep to find them.

 

The ride was silent as Lancelot and Arthur communicated with a handful of hands signs that Merlin was too lazy to try and decipher. Yes, Merlin could hunt, but he preferred not to. Not because he was a vegetarian or that killing animals made his sick or something. He just didn’t like killing for sport, though the game would be eaten.

 

So he gave his mare her head and let her follow the other two as he looked about, taking note of the magic saturating the forest. The trees here were bursting with life as summer made itself known to the world.

 

Content for the moment, he let his magic wonder free for a little bit, relaxing the tight rein he held over it. It sprang free with a bound, twining with the natural magic that thrived here among the trees like excited kittens. When he had been younger, he’d kept his magic like this always, giving it free reign to do as it pleased.

 

He’d once asked some of the older Druids if their magic would like to play with his. They’d stared at him as if he’d sprouted something incredible stupid. It was soon after that he realized that his magic was different compared to the others. Where for others, magic was energy, a force to be manipulated; his was like a living entity, always eager to please and always wanting to do things. It was like there was something else inside him that coexisted with him, one relying on the other to survive.

 

Smiling at the happy vibe his magic was giving him, he reined it in some, keeping it to a set range. No need to let it get up to too much mischief. He couldn’t tell you how many times he’d gotten in trouble because his magic had a mind of its own.

 

The other two had gotten a little ahead, so he spurred his mount onwards to catch up. He came upon a strange scene. Arthur was talking to a young woman and older man while Lancelot rifled through two dead men’s belongings. Eyeing the scenes, he put two and two together, realizing that these men must have been bandits or something along the line.

 

He turned to see who Arthur was talking to. The man walked with a staff, hair and beard turned a steal gray, his robes travel worn and mud stained. The woman was the same, though her dress was a vibrant gold. Curling light brown hair, almost golden in the sunlight, and round, heart shape faced finished the picture.

 

Then Morgana’s words whispered through his mind at the same moment that his magic informed him of a familiar magic close by. His magic curled around both staves they carried and he looked closely, taking in the symbols carved into them. It clicked, finally, what he was seeing. “Arthur!” He called out, drawing the blonde’s attention as his horse fidgeted being so close to such strong magic.

 

 _“You will leave here at once!”_ He hissed at them, voice harsh and rolling as he spoke to them in their native tongue.

 

Arthur jumped back as their eyes flashed crimson, pulling from the woman’s grasp as she tried to grab him. Lancelot ran up next to him as he and Arthur both drew their swords. _“You have no power over us, lowly Druid. What’s to stop us from taking what we want?”_ The man paused, looking at Lancelot. _“Your steel will not stop us. Only the High Priest or Priestess and their immediate family may hold sway over us.”_

 

“He may not have power over you but I do.” Merlin said aloud in his normal voice, while his magic curled around him and the other two protectively.

 

“Ha, how could one such as you have power over us?” The woman laughed aloud, her soft voice grating on the ears.

 

“By my right of birth, given to me from my mother, the late Hunith Emrys, High Priestess of Avalon and you will obey me Sidhe of Avalon.”

 

The two blanched at his words, taking a step back. “You can’t be…” Merlin’s eyes flashed golden, magic pressing in on them, laying control over their mortal forms. They glared up at him as his chains of magic settled, unseen, on their shoulders. “Emrys.” The man said grudgingly.

 

“I know what you planned, Aulfric, and for that I should kill you.” The man paled noticeably. “But, I am not one to kill needlessly. You will leave here. Seek the High Priest Maythn and tell him your case. Tell him I sent you, but do not seek mercy from him as I have shown you. You will find none.”

 

The two bowed low to him and left quickly, compelled by the command he had placed on them. As they disappeared from sight, Merlin let his guard down a little, pulling his magic back in. It curled around him, trying to comfort him as emotions roiled around inside him.

 

He pushed away the still fresh grief until it was a dull presence in his mind. He’d patched the flood gates, but it wouldn’t hold for long. “Merlin?”

 

He looked up to see Arthur and Lancelot watching him closely. “I’m alright.” He tried to reassure them.

 

“What did they have planned?” Lancelot asked him.

 

“I thought Sidhe were small…and blue?” Arthur asked in confusion.

 

Sighing, Merlin got down off his horse, patting it reassuringly on the side before he turned to the others. “Normally they are, but these were not normal Sidhe. Aulfric and Sophia were banished from Avalon and forced into mortal forms.” He explained.

 

They waited for him to continue. “There is only one way for a Sidhe to be banished: to kill another Sidhe. As to what they were planning, or Aulfric was planning, it was to get his daughter back into Avalon since she was banished because of him.”

 

He continued without them asking. “There is only one way to get back into Avalon: sacrificing the heart of a prince.”

 

~*~

 

Merlin looked up at a knock on his door. Before he could answer, it opened and Arthur walked in. “You alright?” He asked the Druid who sat on the edge of his bed. Arthur sat down next to him.

 

“Yeah. Today just brought up some memories and it made me miss her all over again.” They were quiet for a few minutes, each in their own thoughts. Merlin finally spoke. “It seems like a dream sometimes. Like I’ll wake up one day and there she’ll be, telling me to get up and get ready or you to stop picking at your food and eat it.”

 

“I know what you mean. But she’s still here, inside us, living through us. And who knows, maybe she’s already been reborn into a new life.”

 

“Let’s hope so.” They continued to sit like that for some time afterwards, just soaking up the warmth and love from shared memories of the fierce woman they had known for so long.

 

~*~

 

“Merlin, why are we out here?” Arthur asked as they stalked among the trees. They’d left the horses in a small clearing with their gear while they walked about in circles.

 

“Because…I…had a feeling, that we would be needed here.”

 

“What, you mean like a vision like Morgana has?” He asked, turning to look at the brunette next to him.

 

“Not exactly, I only got a glimpse of this place and then that was it, but the feeling made it seem like it was urgent that we come here.” He pulled a branch aside. “I just don’t know what we’re looking for though.”

 

“Well‒” Merlin held up a hand, head tilted as he listened to something in the distance. “What?” Arthur asked when he turned to look at him.

 

“Someone’s coming.” Arthur nodded and they both went into action, moving towards a tree each and crouching down, using it as cover as they waited for whoever was coming to get there.

 

They didn’t have long as the sound of two pairs of running feet came closer. Arthur glanced up as two cloaked figures staggered into the little clearing they were in. One was short, clearly a child, the other an adult.

 

The taller of the two tripped and fell heavily, his breath coming out in great puffs as he tried to catch his breath. “Please you must get up.” The child, a young boy by the sound of his voice, cried softly, tugging at his arm.

 

“I…I can’t. This wound…is too grievous. It saps my strength even as we speak. You must go, run, away from here. They will find us soon.”

 

The boy tugged on his arm, the motion causing the hood of his cloak to fall. Arthur stared in shock at what he saw. Ebony locks, pale skin and bright blue eyes; he looked like a miniature copy of Merlin. He looked like him in all ways…even down to the pointed ears.

 

There was the snap of a twig and Arthur and the other two jerked around to see what it was. Merlin was standing up, hands held up to show that they were empty as he took a step forward.

 

There was an indrawn breath and then the man was bowing as much as he could. “Emrys.” He said softly, pulling his own hood back. The man would have looked average anywhere if not for the sloping points to his ears, longer than Merlin’s or the child’s. His hair, a long dusty brown and skin tanned from long exposure to the sun. Eyes a muddy brown with streaks of amber slashing through them.

 

“Who are you?” He asked, coming forward to crouch in front of the Druid, the boy hiding behind the man in fright at the stranger.

 

“Alicar. I knew your mother very well when I was younger.” Arthur, realizing that it might be better if he made his appearance now, stood and stepped out from his hiding space. Both turned at the movement and the child shrank back, clearly frightened. “He’s‒” Alicar began.

 

“The Human Ambassador. He will not harm either of you. Now tell me, what has happened?” He demanded drawing Alicar’s gaze back to him.

 

“We…we were leaving our old home, on our way to our new one. It had become too risky to live on the forest’s edge with bands of humans attacking.” He paused to catch his breath. “They caught us out in the open, unprepared. We made a run for it, hoping to make it to Camelot where you were living to ask for an escort. They caught up a few miles back and I was able to hold them off for a few minutes, but one of them caught me off guard. I was able to freeze them long enough to let us escape, but they will be here soon. You must take him and flee, please. I don’t know if they will listen to the prince.” By the end he was panting harshly, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth, evidence of the seriousness of his wounds.

 

He watched Merlin’s hands clinch into fists then his eyes flashed golden. Arthur could feel as the shield went up, all outside noise dimming and the air heating to keep the cool autumn breeze from giving them a chill.

 

“There, they will not be able to find us.” Alicar seemed to deflate at the statement, all strength leaving him at Merlin’s words. “I need to heal you, Alicar.”

 

“Emrys, it is too late for me. Already I can feel the pull of Avalon as she calls to me to rest before my next life. Please, before I go, I must beg a favor off of you.”

 

“Speak.” Merlin said softly, face composed, though Arthur could make out the tension in his body as the man died slowly before him.

 

“Please look after Mordred. He is all alone in this world now, and I fear that the reason they chose us specifically is because of him.”

 

“Why do you think that?”

 

“Because, Emrys, he is a Halfling. Born of a Human mother and Druid father. He will never be accepted in Avlin, but I hope, that maybe, he might be accepted enough in Camelot to allow him to live there. Please Emrys.”

 

“We will both look after him.” Arthur stated loudly, stepping closer to look down at the dying man.

 

“Thank you, Ambassador. I can rest easily now, knowing he is safe.”

 

“Alicar, do you have any family who would wish to give their farewell?” Merlin asked softly.

 

He shook his head. “My mother and father died in the wars between the two races and I had no sibling, nor did I have any partner or children of my own. I, like him, am alone.” He said sadly.

 

“Then I will act as your guide to Avalon. Goodbye Alicar. May blessings and peaceful times grace your next life in hopes of a higher place next time.” He intoned softly, leaning down to brush soft lips to the Druid’s eyelids. As he pulled back, they remained closed and slowly, his chest fell and did not rise again, his heart beating its last.

 

They all jumped, the somber moment shattered, as loud voices issued nearby. A group of men walked by, voices raised in anger as they realized they had lost what they had sought. The trio remained silent, watching them walk on a ways and then turn around and start back when they found no obvious trail to follow.

 

Some minutes went by before they stirred, letting out a sigh of relief when their voices faded away. Merlin turned to Mordred. “You are safe now. We need to get back to Camelot, but you are safe.” He turned to Arthur. “Will you help me carry him? I would like to give him a proper burial.” Arthur nodded and stepped closer as Merlin wrapped the man’s cloak tighter around his body.

 

With a grunt, Arthur lifted the somewhat heavy man from the ground and started off towards the horses, leaving Merlin alone to talk with the Druid. It would take Merlin a few minutes to get the boy to trust them enough to follow.

 

~*~

 

Merlin crouched in front of the pale boy, eyeing him. “Mordred.” The boy hesitated, but finally looked up to look at him. “You’re safe now.” He looked into his blue eyes, specks of purple shining in them.

 

 _‘I’m afraid.’_ Even his mental voice shook in fear.

 

“There is nothing to fear. Arthur and I will protect you. As will Lancelot, my bodyguard and Morgana, Arthur’s half-sister. I’m sure Uther and Ygraine will protect you as well. Those men will not be able to hurt you.” He held out his hand. _‘Do you trust me?’_

 

His hand shook a little, but as it touched Merlin’s palm, he calmed some, small hand clutching at Merlin’s larger. Slowly, he nodded. “Good. Come, we need to get going.”

 

Merlin led him out of the clearing towards the horses. Mordred jumped as a shadow detached itself from the base of a large oak, but Merlin just nodded as Lancelot came forward. “Mordred, this is Lancelot. Lancelot, Mordred.” The darker male nodded towards the Halfling.

 

“ _Mer_ lin, I would really like to get going _today_.” Arthur’s voice called out through the trees, making the Druid roll his eyes.

 

“Prat.” He muttered, but continued walking to where Arthur stood with the horses. Alicar was slung over the back of Arthur’s horse, covered by the cloak. Mounting his horse, Lancelot lifted Mordred onto the horse in front of Merlin. He wrapped an arm around the child, following Arthur as they set off at an even pace, keeping it slow.

 

As they neared the city, Merlin lifted Mordred’s hood, keeping him hidden for the time being. No one looked their way as the horses made their way through the city, used to their coming and going. Merlin glanced around for a moment, and then spurred his horse to catch up with Arthur. Now they had to tell Uther and Ygraine of the most recent developments.

 

~*~

 

As Merlin went to settle in the Druid, he took a different direction, hoping to catch his mother and father before lunch finished. He was in luck though, for they still sat at the table, talking softly to each other, that lovey dovey look in their eyes.

 

Normally, he would back out quietly, not wanting to spoil their moment, since they seemed to get so few of them, but right now, he had more pressing matters. Closing it again, quietly, he opened with a bit more force, drawing their attention.

 

“Ah, Arthur, there you are. We were wondering where you had gotten off to when you and Merlin didn’t show up at breakfast. Come sit and eat.” She motioned to the chair next to her.

 

“Actually, there was something I wish to speak to you two about.” He said, but still taking a seat and pulling an apple from the fruit bowl.

 

“What is it?” Uther asked, falling into his role as ruler easily after so many years of practice.

 

“There was an…incident in the forest earlier.” He replied, putting it in mild terms.

 

“Explain.” Uther said, eyes solely focused on him. Nodding, he gave a brief run through of what had happened, from the moment Merlin had dragged him out of his room this morning to their arrival just now.

 

“I had hoped the reports weren’t true.” He finally said, face grave. Ygraine turned to look at her husband. “I have been getting reports, in random locations, where they had found the bodies of both Druid and humans, looking as if they had fought each other. This is serious indeed. I will have to start increasing the patrols along our border and hope that will deter any more such attacks.”

 

“What about the boy, this Mordred?” His mother turned concerned eyes to him.

 

“He appears to have no family and from my stay there in Avlin, I agree with Alicar. Mordred would never be accepted there. Here, he might have a chance to live a relatively normal life.”

 

“I…see no harm if the boy were to stay in Camelot. It will show that we are more willing to accept the Druid people. Make arrangements for his stay.” Arthur nodded to his father’s command.

 

“What does he look like?” Ygraine asked.

 

“A lot like Merlin. It was odd, almost as if he was his younger brother.” He joked.

 

~*~

 

Arthur opened the door to find Merlin seated on his bed, book open on his lap. “You know, I could put you in the stocks for this.” He joked, shutting the door behind him.

 

“Pff, as if Uther would allow it. I am his only way of communicating with the High Council and High Priest. Besides, my bed is taken at the moment.”

 

“How is he?” He asked, shrugging off his jacket and folded it over the back of one of his chairs.

 

“Sad, but that’s to be expected. He fell asleep while we waited for you, so I asked Lance to watch over him while I waited for you here. So?”

 

“He can stay. We’ll have to find a place for him to sleep, preferably near you or Lance just in case.” Merlin nodded absently, fiddling with the ribbon book mark as he took this in.

 

“You okay?” He asked the Druid, sitting down next to him. “You seem preoccupied.”

 

“I’m fine. He just reminded me of myself. He’s got no one left.”

 

“You’ve got me. And Morgana and Gwen would say the same thing. Besides, he’s not alone in the world. He’s got you and Lance to look after him, to show him what’s right. No one is ever truly alone.” When Merlin remained silent, he sighed and leaned over, shoving him sideways with his shoulder.

 

“Hey!” He said indignantly, pushing himself back up off the bed. “Prat.” He pushed back, but Arthur was braced for it and only budged a couple of inches. He felt his lips twitch as the smirk grew bigger on Arthur’s face.

 

Huffing, he stopped trying to push him over and instead, fell backwards. He grabbed the back of Arthur’s tunic at the last minute and pulled him down next to him, snorting when Arthur turned a halfhearted glare at him.

 

“Do you think the treaty will be finished any time soon?” He asked, turning to look at Arthur’s profile as the blonde thought about it.

 

“Maybe. Father has been patient and surprisingly willing to meet some of the demands the High Council has made, but…” He trailed off.

 

“It seems like their leading us somewhere.” Merlin finished.

 

“Yeah, something along those lines. I haven’t been able to guess at what they might want to bring the treaty together, but it will be big.”

 

“Maybe they’ll want land, to raise some of the larger grazing animals on?” Merlin suggested, an impish grin causing his lips to curve up.

 

Arthur snorted in laughter. “Oh yes, I can so see some of the council members eating beef. Some of them are such traditionalists, they won’t even walk on a street unless people have walked on it for at least a couple of decades.” That made them laugh and soon they were clutching their stomachs as their abdomens complained about overuse.

 

Eventually stopping, they wiped some of the tears form their eyes. They both sat up at a knock on the door, “Enter.” Arthur called out.

 

The door opened and Lance stood in the entryway. “He’s awake.” Stepping aside, they finally noticed his shadow.

 

Mordred still looked kind of pale, but he seemed to have calmed down, though his eyes remained guarded. Being surrounded by the people who had killed the only parental figure you had hadn’t made him very trusting of humans.

 

“Mordred, come in.” He walked in slowly, Lance just behind him, shutting the door. “The king has allowed you to stay here Mordred. We’ll need to find you a place to stay and some lunch afterwards. How does that sound?” Merlin asked, smiling at the pale child. He nodded his head. “Good. Let’s get started. I’m hungry since I didn’t eat much this morning.” He held out a hand, and Mordred slowly took it, following the taller Druid out, the other two bringing up the rear.

 

~*~

 

The arrival of Mordred soon spread throughout the city. Whenever he and the child went out, people would flock to get a look at him. None knew of his true origins except for he, Arthur, Lancelot, Morgana, Gwen, Ygraine, and Uther. They decided that the fewer people who knew, the safer he would be.

 

Often times, people mistook him for Merlin’s sibling. The few stall owners who had come to know him had asked if they were related. After declaring that he and Mordred were not related in any way, the question soon died down as the information spread as well.

 

The talks were stalled at the moment, as the two people drew nearer to the completion of them. The council had asked for a few days to break as last minute issue were discussed and gone over. Uther, seeing this as a stalling tactic, agreed anyways since it would give him time to do so as well.

 

This meant that Merlin had some free time on his hands, though Arthur was not so lucky. Seeing the outer walls drawing nearer, he looked down at the smaller Druid. “Would you like to go exploring in the forest?”

 

His face was solemn as he thought it over before nodded. Lancelot, right behind them, just gave a tired sigh. Merlin couldn’t help but smile, throwing a look back at him, eyebrow raised, as if saying, ‘ _you wanted the job.’_

 

The trees were alive with creatures going about their day, mostly ignoring the three Druids walking through the trees. Some were more interested, coming closer to look on curiously. A few sparrows swooped down to land on outstretched hands, peering up curiously at the large, magical beings.

 

Lancelot was distracted for few seconds by a robin that landed on his head and pecked him on the forehead. Those few seconds nearly cost them as the creature attacked, sword whistling through the air to land with a loud thud in the ground where they had been just a second before.

 

Lancelot was on it before it could even bring its sword back up, parrying a blow at his side and attacking. It was tall, dressed in dark armor, black cloth blending with its armor, the edges tattered and torn with age.

 

“Lancelot!” He yelled at the man. He thrust the thing back and drew away as it righted itself. Drawing up his magic, he put as much as was safe behind the _push_. His magic sailed out, grabbing the creature and lifting it off its feet. It flew through the trees, landing with a clatter and clang as it struck a tree.

 

When it started to struggle back up into a standing position, he knew it wasn’t going to die that easily. “Move!” They took off, back through the trees, towards the city.

 

“What is it?” Lancelot panted out, keeping Mordred between him and Merlin.

 

“A wraith. Someone dead was raised and sent against us.” He was panting, sweat dripping down his face as the thud of the wraiths footsteps drew nearer. “Which means it can’t be killed by regular means.”

 

An idea came to him as he remembered that piece of information. “Lancelot, can you keep it busy long enough for me to summon something to kill it?” He asked, breathing heavily.

 

“How long?”

 

“Five minutes at most.” He replied, already drawing up his magic as they spoke.

 

“Fine, stay behind me. Mordred, climb that tree over there and don’t come down until I say so.” Lancelot ordered, slowing and spinning as he drew his sword.

 

Staying with Mordred, he helped him into the tree, already chanting the necessary words to summon the sword he would need. He’d used up a good chunk of magic to throw the wraith, but he would summon this thing if it was the last thing he ever did.

 

When a square of light appeared in front of him, he breathed a sigh of relief, shoving his hand through. Metal met skin as his fingers closed around the sword’s hilt. As the sword cleared the window, the light blinked out and sucked more of his strength with it.

 

Sagging against the trees, he turned to look at the fight. A line of blood showed on his bodyguard’s arm, but he seemed to be holding his own. “Lancelot, move!” The Druid shoved, stumbling away, barely avoiding its sword swing.

 

Drawing on the last of his magic, he used his most basic ability, moving the thing by will alone. It whistled as it flew through the air, landing with a dull crunch in the creature’s chest before it exploded into clouds of dust and dead flesh.

 

By then, he was leaning against the tree, body limp from using so much magic. The sound of scraping and rustling, followed a few fluttering leaves and then Mordred was on the ground next to him.

 

Lancelot walked over, holding the cut on his arm, but appearing to be fine. “What is this?” He held up the sword.

 

“A gift to my mother…from my father. All she said to me was that it was tempered in dragon’s fire and could kill anything alive or dead. She said it was a legendary blade meant for a great destiny. It’s called Excalibur.”

 

He seemed to finally take in Merlin’s prone form. “You over did it again, didn’t you?” He asked. Merlin just smiled sheepishly up at him. Sighing, he slid the blade through his belt, next to his blade. Bending down, he and Mordred eventually got him to his feet.

 

~*~

 

The guards came running up to them as they trudged into view of the main gate set in the wall. One was sent to fetch Gaius as two came to help support the drained warlock. As they led the three into the guard station, another was sent to fetch Arthur.

 

Both the physician and the prince arrived within minutes of each other, looking worried and tousled from their run here. Gaius was soon directed to the wounded Druid and got to work, checking to make sure it wasn’t serious.

 

Arthur made his way over to the other two, checking with sight for anything wrong. Merlin just looked tired and about ready to fall asleep. Mordred was hovering next to him on the bench, looking worried and anxious as his eyes flicked towards the other Druid constantly.

 

“What happened?” He asked, pulling up a stool to sit in front of him.

 

“We were walking through the forest, close to the wall and were attacked.” He said softly, fighting back a yawn.

 

“Attacked by what exactly?”

 

“A wraith. Whoever is trying to kill me is powerful, to be able to raise one.” Arthur could see it would be useless to try and get any more out of him. He was babbling a little and must be running on nothing but adrenalin at the moment.

 

Sighing, he stood. “Come on, let’s get you to the castle and in bed before you fall over your own feet.” He held out a hand and Merlin took it, letting Arthur pull him up and sling his arm over his shoulders.

 

“You don’t have to.” He mumbled, but Arthur ignored him, leading him out of the guard station and towards the castle. The people soon noticed their passage and a crowd was starting to form. Ignoring their questions of curiosity, he kept moving, the guards keeping the crowd back and giving them space to maneuver.

 

They soon got breathing room once they made it through the main gate of the castle, the guards there keeping them back. Uther and Ygraine were on the steps, waiting as he helped the failing Druid up the stone steps.

 

Once he got him to his room, he set the Druid on his bed and stripped him of his jacket, outer tunic, and boots before tucking him under the duvet. He was out before his head even hit the pillow, not even stirring as Mordred climbed onto the bed with him and sat with his back to the head board, watching over him as he slept.

 

~*~

 

“What happened?” Uther asked as he shut the door on the two Druids. Lancelot still stood in the hall, looking like he was also running on adrenalin.

 

“Lancelot, you can go get some rest. I’ll have some guards posted so you can sleep.” The man bowed, but didn’t budge.

 

“We were attacked, sire. By a wraith, or a body raise from the dead. Whoever it is that is trying to keep these talks from happening is powerful, or so Merlin has informed me.”

 

“Were there any distinguishing markings on it?” Arthur asked, guessing it was human.

 

“I couldn’t see its face, it was covered in full armor. It did have a crest on its shield, though much fade by time. It looked to be a raven, or a black dragon, it was hard to make out and I was too busy trying to keep it away from them to take much notice. I’m sorry, I can’t be of any help. If you will excuse me.” Uther nodded, dismissing the Druid. He shuffled down the hall, seeking his own bed.

 

“Father, we need to hurry up and finalize this treaty.” He said softly, not wanting to wake Merlin. They started to head back the way they had come.

 

“I understand your concern for Merlin, Arthur, but we mustn’t be too rash. The High Council is building up to something, which they say will finalize this thing and we mustn’t rush headlong into it. For all we know, this was their doing to make us stumble.”

 

Arthur sighed. “You might be right, but I hope they hurry up and say what it is. Because the next time something like this happens, I don’t know how Merlin will fare.”

 

Far to the east, in the city of Avlin, the Druid High Council has come to a unanimous decision. The treaty will survive, if Uther and the humans are willing to agree to their price. One that has been long in debate.

 

~*~


	5. Part 5

Merlin stared out his thin windows, watching the last of the light fade from the sky. Tomorrow, the council and Uther would begin the conclusion of these talks and he knew without a doubt that the council would give their final demand.

 

From past experience, it would be something large. Druids sought power above all else, going to great lengths to obtain it. This treaty was one such moment. They would demand something that either Uther would pay, though unwillingly, or he would refuse and thus stall the talks and force Uther to compromise with something of equal value. They would get power either way.

 

Trudging back to his bed, he looked down at its occupant. The smaller Druid had shown up as it grew dark, unable to sleep alone in his room. He was now curled into a ball on his bed, small fist gripping his pillow tightly in sleep.

 

Sighing, he slipped under the duvet, going slowly so as not to awaken Mordred. Lying his head down, he let sleep pull him under, speaking softly, the candles going out in some unknown breeze.

 

~*~

 

_“Merlin.” The pale Druid looked up from his book, and then looked down, his perch in the tree higher than Arthur. “Why are you up there?” Arthur demanded, pulling himself up onto the lowest branch._

_Merlin didn’t answer as he watched the blonde work his way up the tree until he sat next to him, on a slightly lower branch, bright blue eyes boring holes in his head as he waited for the Druid to speak. Merlin refused to answer or face him._

_“Merlin, look at me.” Merlin shook his head gently, lips sealed as he stared blankly at the words on the pages of his book. “Merlin…” He felt strong fingers gripping his chin, forcing his head to turn, no matter how he fought him. He shut his eyes as his face turned fully in Arthur’s direction._

_His breath hissed out of clenched teeth as he took in the Druid’s face. “Who did this Merlin?” He demanded. He opened his eyes to see flaming blue eyes glaring at him, anger clear on his face. Even at the age of fifteen, Arthur was an imposing figure of muscle and shortened temper._

_“It’s nothing.” He replied softly. He winced as gently fingers probed around the bruise forming on the side of his face. He knew Arthur could see the dried blood from where the rock that had been thrown had split his skin open._

_“Nothing! You call this nothing. What is something, a broken bone, a knife in the back? Why don’t you ever fight back? Why do you let them bully you like that?” He demanded hotly._

_“Fighting back will only make them more determined. Eventually, they’ll grow tired of it.” He replied sagely, but it lacked conviction._

_“And how long will that take? These are the same ones who have bullied you since I first arrived here. Do you plan to let this go on forever? I know for a fact that you are stronger than them, that you have more power in one finger than they will ever have? Why do you let them? Merlin, why do they bully you?” He asked him, hands fisted._

_He was about to answer when Hunith yelled up at them, telling them it was time to come in for lunch. Ignoring the glances Arthur was giving him, he stuffed his book into his pocket and made his way down the tree. Ignoring his mother’s worried glance, he walked ahead of the two, wanting to be alone._

 

~*~

 

_It was dark when he arrived home, aching and covered in filth. The moment he stepped foot in the front foyer, the lights flickered on and he was face to face with a worried looking Hunith. She took in his appearance, and the worry changed to a look of guilt. “Oh, Merlin.”_

_Taking a step forward, she helped him through the house to her personal work room, the scent of herbs and potions mixing together to give the room a unique smell. She pointed to a one of the benches. “Strip.” She bustled off through the back door and slowly, painfully, he peeled off his grimy clothing, wincing when a bruised muscle was pulled._

_Seated in nothing but his under shorts, he waited for his mother to come back in. A few minutes later, she was back, carrying a bowl of steaming, scented water and a cloth draped over her arm._

_Setting the bowl down, she dipped the cloth into the water and slowly, gently whipped dirt from his pale bruised back. “What happened?” She asked softly._

_“They caught me on my way back from training. I was tired and had let my guard down. It would have been a lot worse if my magic hadn’t reacted to their malicious auras. It acted all on its own, as usual, but if not for it, I don’t know what would have happened.” He admitted, gritting his teeth as she pressed on a particularly painful bruise on his ribs._

_“They appear to be only bruised. I can heal the worst, but you’re going to be sore tomorrow.” She informed him. “Do you want me to tell Arthur?” She asked him softly._

_He shook his head. “Arthur’s got enough on his plate at the moment to be worrying about me as well. I’ll be fine. I just need to train more and keep my guard up.”_

_She gave a sad sigh. “I’m sorry, Merlin. If could, I would have stopped this long before now.”_

_“It is not your fault. If I thought it was, would I still be here? I love you mother, and I could care less about what people think about me.” She just smiled sadly down at him, stroking his ebony locks softly, before pulling away to get what she would need to heal him._

 

~*~

 

Merlin jolted awake, breathing hard as he forced himself out of his memories. It had been a long time since he’d had these dreams. He remembered that night clearly though. It had been one of the last times that he had allowed them to get near him.

 

Arthur had never found out about it, assuming his lingering stiffness was due to a hard training session. Arthur had never learned why the consistent bullying and later attacks kept happening. Arthur did have one of the reasons though. Jealousy of his magic was main factor, since the ones who had bullied him would never rise very high in Avlin.

 

But there was something else, something that Arthur would never know of unless he told him. He almost had, that day in the tree, but then he’d lost his nerve and never got it back. Sighing, he turned over, willing sleep to come back, knowing that in a few hours, he would have to get up and prepare for the meeting.

 

~*~

 

The room quieted as Uther and Arthur entered, Merlin just behind. Lancelot had Mordred in tow, heading for the back of the room to keep the boy out of everyone’s way as they worked. Moving to his customary seat on the floor where a cushion was laid for him, he sat, getting to work establishing a connection between Camelot and Avlin.

 

Slowly, the light faded into the image of the High Council and the High Priest. He zoned them out as pleasantries were exchanged between them. Instead, he turned his eyes to Maythn. He was dressed in the High Priest’s ceremonial robes, which meant he must have arrived from an all-night vigil. He remembered his mother attending many such nights. He didn’t look tired, so he must have had time to catch some sleep before the meeting.

 

He listened with only one ear as they discussed what had already been agreed upon for the treaty. He knew it already since most of it had been renewed points from the original treaty. It was as they neared the end that he turned his full attention to what they were saying.

 

“Then everyone is in agreement over everything so far. We have come to the end of this treaty. I am sure both sides have a few things they wish to add.” Garna, ever the mediator, said aloud.

 

As Uther spoke to them about last minute things, one of the council’s younger members was staring past him into the back of the room. As Uther finished and the others had agreed to certain parts, he spoke up. “I see you allow a filthy half-blood to stay among your people.” He said casually, as if he commented on the weather.

 

Merlin saw Mordred stiffen as the man spoke. “Gal, that is no way to speak while the talks are going on.” Maythn reproached him, turning a glare in his direction. “I am sorry for his comment. He is the least experienced among us and has yet to learn tact.” Gal bristled at the comment, but kept his tongue in check.

 

“We take no offense from his words.” Uther assured him. “Please continue. We have made our last concessions, please, speak yours.” Maythn nodded in acknowledgement.

 

“We have spent the last few days in heavy discussion over what we will ask and it has been chosen. Although originally, we had not planned it, we believe it will help in the long run of letting our people coexist together.”

 

He paused for a moment, letting it sink in and to draw breath before he continued. “We ask for a union between our two peoples. One that will show that both sides are willing to set aside differences for the greater good of all. We ask for a union between Prince Arthur, Human Ambassador, and one of our people of our choosing.”

 

“A union of marriage?” Uther asked, just to be sure he had heard them correctly. Maythn nodded. “Whom have you chosen for this… _union_?” He asked stiffly, keeping his voice neutral.

 

“A few candidates have come forward and some would be acceptable for us. But we believe there is one that is the best choice for this union.”

 

“And who would that be?” Uther asked softly, hands gripping the arms of his throne hard.

 

He looked down, to where Merlin sat on his cushion. “Merlin Emrys.” He said simply.

 

The hall broke out into yells at those words, each trying to be heard above the rest. Uther remained silent, eyes staring at Merlin fixedly as he processed what Maythn had said. Merlin for his part remained still, keeping his opinion to himself as he waited for things to calm down. It was hard though, with all eyes on him. He could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck and ears, but he put all of his focus on keeping the spell going.

 

It was Arthur who spoke first, bringing the room to a shocked quiet as he spoke. “They’re right, he is the most suitable.” All eyes turned from Merlin to Arthur.

 

“What do you mean ‘most suitable’?” Uther demanded, turning to his son.

 

“Well, if you follow their logic, he is. Not only is he powerful by his own right, but he comes from a powerful heritage. He has also become accustom to our way of life during his stay here.”

 

“But he is male?” Uther said in disbelief.

 

“So?” He seemed to be genuinely unconcerned with his father’s shock. “Among the Druids, union does not mean what is does here. They marry to form alliances and for power so that their children may have a higher place in life than they did. They care not for gender.” He explained patiently.

 

“But…he cannot produce an heir.” He reasoned.

 

“You forget father, they are a magical race. They figured out that problem a long time ago.” He replied impatiently. “I see no problem with a union, but…”

 

“But what?” Maythn finally spoke as Arthur overrode his father.

 

“It’s just, I thought, well assumed really, that because of all that, you would want Merlin to return to Avlin to join the council.” He said, looking confused.

 

Maythn seemed to grow grave as Arthur finished speaking, but it was Gal who spoke first. “Why would we want _him_ on the council?” The others glared at him and he appeared to look guilty for his outburst, but not what he had said. None appeared to disagree with his statement.

 

“Arthur, Merlin will never be allowed to serve on the council, no matter how powerful his magic or heritage is.” He answered and all eyes turned to the Druid, but none could see his face as he sat with his head bowed.

 

“We will give you two days to decide on our request. We hope it will be favorable.” The room was quiet as the light faded as Merlin let the spell go. No one spoke as he stood, a little unsteady on his feet.

 

Lancelot and Mordred came up beside him, offering a shoulder to lean on as they walked towards the doors. “Merlin.” Arthur’s voice range out, bringing the three of them to a stop just before the doors. “What did he mean by that? Why can you never be on the council?” The silence was heavy as they waited for his answer and for a few moments, it appeared he wouldn’t answer.

 

Then his shoulders sagged, as if under some great, unspeakable burden. “Merlin?” Lancelot asked quietly, but the Druid shook his head, straightening a little.

 

His voice was steady and even as he spoke. “Because Arthur, I’m only half Druid.”

 

~*~

 

No one moved as the three exited, too stunned by his parting words. The hall rang with silence, some eyes even turning to Arthur as the prince stood in astounded silence. Finally, Ygraine seemed to pull herself together. “Perhaps it would be wise to call an end to this meeting until tomorrow. We will discuss what has been presented then.” The group paralysis was shaken off with some difficulty and soon those gathered were taking their leave of the royal family.

 

Eventually, all that remained were Arthur, Ygraine, Uther, Morgana, and Gwen. “Arthur…” His mother’s voice was soft, worry lacing it as he stood there motionless.

 

Shaking himself, he seemed to draw himself together, looking like his normal self. “I think I will cancel training for the day, if you will excuse me.” He left before any could say or do anything. If they noticed the tense set to his shoulders, they said nothing.

 

~*~

 

The castle was silent and still as shadows reigned supreme during the moonlit hours. None noticed another shadow among them as it crept through back passages and hallways. Eventually, it came to its destination, leaving the other shadows and stopping in front of a plain, nondescript door in the stone walls.

 

Reaching forward, Arthur knocked lightly against the wood, knowing the one inside would hear it, no matter how softly he struck it. There wasn’t a response, but the door’s lock clicked and it swung inward a few inches.

 

Slipping in, he shut it softly behind him before turning to look at the rest of the room. The fire in the hearth was out, leaving the room in darkness except for what moonlight made it through the thin windows.

 

Merlin sat with his back to him, bathed in a streak of moonlight, dividing him in two, half in shadow, half in light. It seemed fitting, for the moment, but he mustn’t get caught up in the symbolism. Taking a fortifying breath, he stepped forward, walking the short distance around the bed he sat on to stand partially in front of him.

 

“Merlin?” He called out, fearing what he might see when the Druid looked up. But he didn’t look up, just continued to sit in his hunched position, staring down at his hands, fingers interwoven and clenched rigid until his knucklebones stood out against his already pale skin. Sighing, he finally moved forward to take a seat next to him, but keeping his distance. “Why did you never tell me?”

 

“Would it have made any difference if I had?” His voice was soft and heavy, each word dropping to the ground like a piece of lead.

 

“I…I don’t know. It may, it may not have. It’s too late to tell.” He replied sagely, staring at him, hoping he would look up. “But still, why? Are you ashamed of what you are? Afraid that I wouldn’t like you?”

 

Merlin gave a sound close to a growl at the back of his throat, jumping to his feet in one fluid movement. “Do you even know what it’s like? To be pulled from two sides all your life, one side just not enough, the other a corrupting force that makes you lower than dirt? It feels like I’m being torn apart, Arthur, and I can’t decide! Which should I chose? Will that side even accept me?” He was breathing hard now, hands clenched at his side.

 

“You ask if I’m afraid. Yes, goddammit! I’m afraid, afraid that you will hate me like everyone else, that you’ll hurt me, worse than they ever could because I actually give a damn about what you think.” He seemed to lose his wind, shoulders sagging in defeat. “I didn’t want to be hurt like that, so I hid it. And you never questioned it. Took it at face value and never judged me for what you didn’t know.”

 

“You idiot!” Arthur stood sharply and Merlin flinched, expecting him to lash out at him. Arthur’s hand shot out and grabbed a hand full of his tunic, pulling him forward to wrap trembling arms around him, holding the breaking Druid together by sheer will alone.

 

“I may be an arrogant prat sometimes, but I would never hate you. Never hurt you, no matter how much you deserved it for being such a stupid fool, like you are most of the time when I’m not around to keep you out of trouble.” He felt a faint snort against his chest at that statement. “Merlin, I don’t care if you’re part unicorn or part dragon. You are my friend and I will stand by you as such, no matter what happens. Unless you say something stupid, then I’ll have to beat some sense back into you.”

 

By the time he finished speaking, Merlin was shaking slightly, arms clenched tight around his waist. He could feel a warm wet patch forming on his shirt, but he said nothing, rubbing small circles into his back.

 

It took him a few minutes to calm down, years of pent up emotion pouring out of his body in one fell swoop. Finally, he gave a wet sniff, pulling back slightly, one hand letting go of Arthur’s shirt to whip at wet eyes and nose. “Better?” Arthur asked, looking down at him. His face was red and blotchy around his eyes and on his cheeks where his tears had run.

 

“Sorry.” He sniffed again.

 

“Don’t be, you needed to let it off your chest.” He steered him towards the bed, arms still wrapped around his shoulders in a loose embrace. “Don’t you feel better? Like a load has been lifted?”

 

He gave a watery smile and nodded. “Yeah…thanks. You never did let me feel sorry for myself, no matter what happened.” There was a small comfortable silence before he finally spoke again. “Why a unicorn and dragon?”

 

“ _Mer_ lin.” His voice was drawn out in exasperation. “I don’t know. I’ll probably sound like a girl, but you just remind me of them.” He wasn’t looking at him as he said this.

 

He gave a snort of laughter, but it died quickly. The room went silent again as they thought about other things. Finally Arthur broke the silence. “Merlin…what do you think about…the High Council’s final ultimatum?”

 

Merlin had been leaning against him while they were in their own thoughts and Arthur felt him stiffen at his words. “I…it wasn’t something I was expecting…, but I can see the appeal in it for them. To have a Druid as a part of Camelot’s royal family is worth more than the taboo of mixing the two races.”

 

“But what do _you_ think about it?” Arthur waited for him to answer patiently.

 

“I…I see no reason _not_ to do it, if it will help finalize the treaty‒”

 

“Merlin that is not what I asked. I don’t want you accepting this because of some stupid sense of duty you feel. You either do it because you want to, or you don’t. There isn’t any middle ground. Do _you_ want this to happen?”

 

“I…I…” Even in the dim lighting, he could see the red spreading up the back of his neck and ears. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about marrying, never thought anyone would want to be with me.”

 

Arthur sighed loudly. “ _Mer_ lin…” He put a calloused finger under his chin, lifting his face up. “Shut up.” He pressed forward softly, just a brush of lips to his. Merlin was frozen underneath him, unmoving for a few seconds, before something seemed to click off in him and he pressed back tentatively. Finally, Arthur pulled back. “I think that should answer it for you.”

 

“Prat.” But he was smiling a little, leaning against his side, head on his shoulder. “You know, we’re both really oblivious.” He stated with a dejected sigh. “I’m mean, to not even realize this.”

 

“I think there was too much going on around and _between_ us to have let us see anything but the most obvious things. It’s okay, I don’t blame you for your obliviousness at not seeing this amazingness in front of you.”

 

He let out an ‘oomph!’ as Merlin jabbed him in the side. “No need to be such a pompous prat.” Arthur laughed out right at that, pushing Merlin onto his back and following, lying down next to him, both laughing.

 

Outside the door, a shadow detached itself from beside the door, hands at her sides to keep her gown from rustling. Midnight black locks melded into the shadows, her pale skin a stark contrast. Her lips, painted a soft red pulled up into a smile, gears already turning as she planned for the future.

 

~*~

 

The council stood silently behind them as they stared up at Uther and Ygraine. Uther’s face was starting to turn an interesting shade of red as he fought to stay calm. “What was it you just said?” He bit out through clenched teeth. Ygraine just sighed softly, patting her husband’s hand and sent a sympathetic look towards the two men.

 

“I said, that Merlin and I have talked about it, and we are willing to accept the council’s demands.” All eyes turned from Uther to Merlin who fidgeted beside the prince, but kept his gaze up and level with the king.

 

“You so willingly accept it. I will not allow it; no son of mine will wed a Druid, even if he is only half.” He roared, slamming his fist onto the arm of his throne.

 

“Well, seeing as how this demand does not concern you, father, you have no right in whether I accept or not.” He replied coldly. “We will tell the council of our acceptance and you will just go along with it.”

 

His face was starting to turn purple as he held his breath. Ygraine seeing this bent forward to whisper something into her husband’s ear. Whatever it was she had said, it took all the wind out of the king’s sail, staring at her in disbelief. She stared back just as determined as her son and gave a sharp nod as confirmation to what she had said.

 

His throat worked for a second as he fought for words. Finally he sighed, loudly and waved a dismissive hand. Bowing, the two men and the rest of the court left, knowing that the king and his queen needed to speak alone.

 

~*~

 

The next day, the council was informed of their acceptance. The treaty was soon finished after that. Uther stepped up and signed it with a flourish, hesitating only once as he glanced at the steely look in his wife’s eyes.

 

The High Priest stepped forward, his eyes flashing gold momentarily. Slowly, the quill lifted and signed his name to the decorated parchment. This followed for the rest of the council, each shuffling forward and magically signing the parchment from such a distance.

 

As the last name dried, Geoffrey stepped forward, sealing wax in hand. Uther stepped forward and quickly pressed his ring to the cooling wax, impressing the Pendragon crest into the red wax. Standing and still holding the spell in place, Merlin drew a heavy chain from around his neck, a ring swinging from it.

 

Quickly taking it off, he slid it onto his finger and pressed it into more wax, leaving the crest of Avalon impressed into the wax. The room rang with cheers as the half Druid stepped back. It was done, the treaty had been finished.

 

“We hope the union date will be settled quickly. We wish to send our own representatives to ensure that it is completed.” Bowing, the image faded and disappeared altogether.

 

~*~

 

Arthur found Merlin later that day out on the wall, looking out east towards the distant forests of Avlin. “I guess I won’t be going back now.” He mused aloud.

 

Arthur leaned his hip against the wall ledge next to him. “You can always visit. I wouldn’t mind visiting every now and again. Besides, there will be problems in the future. Problems where they’ll need the Human and Druid Ambassador to sort it out.”

 

“I guess you’re right…for once.” He smirked at the blonde. It faded and his expression turned serious again. “Arthur, do you think you will ever regret this? That you maybe could have led a more normal life if you hadn’t been chosen as the Ambassador.” He asked quietly.

 

“Normal, I doubt there is such a thing. Regret it, definitely.” Merlin flinched at his words. “I would regret the chance of ever meeting you Merlin. Regret missing all the time we’ve spent together. I wouldn’t change my life for all the power in the world. Now, stop asking stupid things.” He growled, tugging him forward to put him in a headlock, knuckling his head.

 

“Alright, alright, I get it. Stop.” Arthur stopped, but didn’t let his hold on his shoulders go. “Sorry for that. For some reason, talking with the council always makes me feel depressed.”

 

“Well then, let’s get you undepressed.” He replied with a smirk. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to the Druid’s, curling his fingers into his hair to keep him still as he pressed forward. Merlin sighed, letting him kiss him, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth.

 

“Better?” He asked as he pulled away.

 

Merlin’s cheeks were red, but he just smiled. “I don’t know, still feeling a little gloomy.” Arthur returned the smile and kissed him again.

 

~*~

 

The silence around them was steady, only penetrated by an occasional foot fall or the cry of a bird as it took off from its perch, disturbed by their advance. All around them, men walked stealthily through the underbrush, intent on their prey, should it be flushed out by the servants further ahead.

 

Merlin sighed quietly next to Arthur, bored of this game of cat and mouse that Arthur loved so much. He hated hunting, though he had done it himself on occasion, out of necessity. The unnecessary killing of game for sport was not what he called fun, but among these high born men of Camelot, it was what made a man. The only conciliation that made this not so bad was that any meat gained was given to the poor in the lower city. Ygraine made sure of that.

 

He smiled fondly of the bright blonde woman that came to mind. She reminded him greatly of his own mother and the fact that she treated him like he was her own son, made him flush sometimes in embarrassment, but leaving warmth filling his chest.

 

He jerked his head up, shaken out of his mussing by the telltale tingle of magic nearby. It was benign, giving the feeling of purity and innocence that felt familiar. Looking around, he searched for any sign of what he felt was close.

 

His breath caught as he spotted it. No matter how many times he saw one, it still inspired awe inside him at the majesty of the pure white creature, large brown eyes staring back at him with uncanny intelligence.

 

“Arthur…” He breathed out. The blonde looked his way and he pointed at the shining creature, crystal horn sending shards of colored light everywhere.

 

He turned his head, looking to see if anyone else had noticed the creature…and felt all blood drain from his face at the sight that beheld him. One of the knights, a brash young thing newly into his status had his crossbow lifted, bolt in place as he aimed at the unicorn, a large grin on his lips.

 

“NO!” The man jerked at his shout, finger clenching on the trigger and releasing the bolt to bury itself into the creature’s pure white neck. He felt his heart clench as the crimson blood started to well up, staining the purity before them, destroying it.

 

The world seemed to burst into chaos as Arthur went running forward towards the felled beast. Merlin kept back, looking around for something. When it didn’t appear, his stomach started to twist into knots. This was bad, who knows what kind of scourge they had just brought down on Camelot.

 

~*~

 

The hall was quiet as the news of what had happened was told to the king and queen. Uther’s face seemed to have even more lines engraved into it. “And you are sure this will happen?” He asked, gripping the armrests of his thrown until his knuckles turned white.

 

Merlin nodded, eyes downcast and somber. “It is. The killing of a unicorn is a foreboding act with dire consequences. None are immune to the curse that soon follows.”

 

“Is there any way to right this wrong?” Ygraine asked.

 

“There is one. It is said that Anhora, the Guardian of the Unicorns, will appear when the time is right and test a chosen individual. Should they be pure of heart, the curse will be lifted. Until he appears, we must wait.”

 

Uther sighed, rubbing at his temples in agitation before looking back up. “There is nothing else to do then. For now, we will continue as we always have and prepare for the worst. I’m sure you are tired, I won’t keep you any longer.”

 

Bowing, the two left, leaving the two to consult with their advisors in order to prepare. The trek back through the castle to Arthur’s room was long and silent. Neither were surprised to see Lancelot or Mordred there, nor Morgana and Gwen since they still had no idea what was going on.

 

“What has happened?” The pale beauty demanded the moment the door was shut. Although Gwen didn’t ask, they could see the question burning on her face. They quickly went through what had happened on the hunt.

 

Lancelot jerked back, showing fear for the first time in front of them. Mordred remained silent, but his rounded, pale face was just as serious as theirs, worrying at his lower lip. Morgana and Gwen both gasped at the news. Morgana let loose a curse, threatening to knock in the head of the knight who had struck the magical creature down.

 

“How long do we have?” Gwen asked.

 

“I’m not sure. Our records of past killings are few and fragmented. All we know is that there will be a curse and that someone must be tested. I’ve no idea what kind of test it will be, or how many there will be. All we can do is prepare.” Merlin answered, looking paler than usual as he worried over what was to come.

 

~*~

 

The night was quiet as he slipped from his room. Keeping mostly to the shadows, he made his way further into the castle, footsteps silent. As he neared his destination, he could see light flickering underneath the door.

 

Slipping forward, he tapped lightly on the grained wood, the soft sound echoing in the near silent corridor. A soft “Enter” drifted out. Opening the door, he slid in, shutting it behind him. Arthur didn’t look too surprised to see him.

 

He was seated at his table, papers spread out across it, quill in hand as he wrote. “Preparations?” He asked, stepping forward to look down at it.

 

“Yeah. My father went through the grain stores this afternoon. They are full, but they can only hold for so long before we must find an alternative.” His shoulders were tense as he set the quill down, reaching for his goblet of water that he was nursing. “Have you felt anything?” He asked.

 

“Nothing, but it is still too early to say.” He walked around the table to lean against his throne-like chair. “You should get some sleep. Worrying too much won’t help us and when you’re tired, you get grouchy.” He grinned down at the blonde, poking him in the shoulder.

 

“Ha, ha, I know for a fact that you get pissy when you’ve had too little sleep.” He shot back, but smiled all the same. Reaching up, he pulled him down by his nightshirt, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a half hug. “You’re right though, for once.” Merlin shot him a glare, but didn’t pull away.

 

~*~

 

With dawn came news of the first signs of the curse they had incurred on Camelot. The two stood next to Uther, staring out across the barren field of dead grain. As far as the eye could see, it was a waste land, no greenery to be found or edible plant left alive.

 

“Messengers have been arriving all morning with reports of a similar destruction. It spreads all the way to Camelot’s border. No fields were spared. At this rate, the grain stores will only last for a few months if everything is rationed enough.” Arthur said softly, voice somber as he took in the destruction.

 

“Can you do anything?” Uther asked aloud, turning to look at the half Druid, a small flicker of hope in his eyes.

 

Merlin shook his head morosely, extinguishing the spark. “Even I don’t have enough magic to go against this curse. The only way to lift it is to pass Anhora’s tests. He may not even appear to us.”

 

Uther seemed to deflate for a moment and then straightened, squaring his shoulders and jaw. “Have a guard placed on the grain stores. Any caught trying to steal more than they are given will be thrown in the dungeons and flogged.” He left in a swirl of red cloak.

 

~*~

 

The night was dead silent, not even the insects buzzing. The two stood on the wall, staring down into the courtyard at the line of people continued to lengthen as word was spread. Everyone was allowed one sack of grain, to last the week. In the distance, torches and lamps winked in the darkness as those in the outlying villages made the trek to Camelot for their much needed stores.

 

“Do you think we can end it?” Merlin asked softly, unwilling to break the heavy silence that had descended on the city.

 

“That depends if those chosen can pass my tests.” Someone said behind them, voice old and weary.

 

They spun, the sound of hissing metal following as Arthur drew his sword. No one was behind them. “That is no way to greet someone, Prince Arthur, no matter how troubling the situation may be.” They both looked to the right, taking in the sight of an old man, bent slightly as he used his staff as sort of a walking stick. His white cloak stood out brightly among the shadows, but under the hood, his face was concealed.

 

“Who are you?” The blonde demanded, sword shifting to keep the old man at bay.

 

“You already know who I am, prince. Now put that away before someone gets hurt.” Arthur glared for a second before lowering it and sheathing it back on his belt.

 

“Anhora.” Merlin said softly, staring at the old Guardian of the Unicorns.

 

He nodded. “Correct. You know why I am here as well.” He stated simply.

 

“You are here to choose whom you will test.” The older man nodded again. “You’ve chosen us?”

 

Anhora shook his head. “I can only test one.” He turned to Arthur. “You my prince have been chosen for this task. Three tests must be passed and you shall not know what they will be. Should you fail, you know what will happen.” He was gone as if he hadn’t been there, leaving the two staring at the space he had occupied.

 

“Arthur?” Merlin asked softly, looking at the blonde.

 

“I think it would be best if we did not inform my father of this. Who knows what would happen, should he try to interfere.” Merlin nodded in understanding. Uther was a man who was used to getting his way, no matter what.

 

~*~

 

The next evening found the two standing guard inside the grain storage. They were a last barrier between desperate thieves and the grain that was worth more than gold at the moment. As Arthur stood near the main door, Merlin walked around the walls edge, following the curve of the stone.

 

Each time he passed Arthur, he would nod at the prince, confirming that all was well. He could have used magic to do this, but some things were better done by hand than by magic. Still, he did have a spell placed around outside to warn him if someone was knocked out or killed. It would give them time to prepare at least.

 

He was on his tenth circuit of the large room, just nearing Arthur again when a noise caught their ears. Turning, they both stalked through the room on silent feet, edging closer to the noise. Edging around the wall the surrounded the grain storage, they saw a man standing at the gape in the wall, bag in hand as he tried to fill it as quietly as possible.

 

Drawing his sword as quietly as possible, Arthur stepped forward, pointing it at the man’s back. “What do you think you’re doing?” He demanded, pressing the point forward until it rested on the nape of his neck.

 

The man jerked, dropping the bag of grain and spilling it on the ground. Glancing at it, he willed the grain back into it and drew the bag through the air to his waiting hands, eyeing the thief who stood shock still at sword point. “Arthur.” He said quietly.

 

Keeping his sword up, but pulling back, he let the man turn to look at them. “What excuse do you have for stealing the king’s grain?” He demanded, eyes cold and blazing in anger. He hated thieves, but when they stole something that was so needed elsewhere, it went beyond just plain stealing.

 

“Please, sire, I wasn’t trying…please, I have a family to feed and one sack of grain won’t be enough to last for a few days, let alone a week. I don’t want to see them starve because I was unable to feed them.” The man’s eyes were glassy, the desperation in his voice unfeigned.

 

The stiff set of Arthur’s shoulders seemed to relax some at the man’s words. He gave a soft sigh. “You will take this grain and leave. Tell no one. If you _ever_ try this again, you will not fare so well, and you’re children will be even more hungry because their father is in the dungeons.”

 

The man nodded frantically. “Thank you, oh thank you sire. You’re kindness will not go unlooked.” He bowed multiple times, accepting the bag of grain that floated over to him. Merlin stared after him, his words ringing through his head, sounding strange.

 

“Very good. This small act of kindness has shown you are willing to help those in need, no matter the circumstances. You have two more tests still prince and will not be as easily accomplished.” Anhora was gone before they could even turn, leaving them staring again at the spot he had left and feeling like they were being played with.

 

~*~

 

“Arthur, where are we going?” Merlin asked as they rode out of Camelot, horse laden down with a day’s worth of supplies for two.

 

“Away from here.” Was his brisk reply as he kneed his mount into a trot as the last of the buildings slid by them.

 

Merlin copied and caught up with him, hand steady on the reins. “Yes, I can see that, but why are we going away from here?” He asked, exasperated with the blonde prat.

 

“Because, I don’t want Camelot to become involved with anymore of Anhora’s tests. If I’m out here, he’ll be forced to test me out here and not endanger anyone else.”

 

In a way it made perfect sense and he wondered how long Arthur had been thinking about this since last night. Sighing, he just continued to follow, letting his magic range a little to give forewarning in case something was headed their way, not that it was likely to tell him if Anhora was near. It hadn’t before, so why would it now.

 

They rode on for a few more hours, putting as much distance between them and the city. They found a clearing nearby, a small stream a short distance from where they had decided to lay their camp. As Arthur started to set up, he walked the horses over to water them after their journey. The forest was quiet around them.

 

~*~

 

He got the fire going fairly quickly, so quickly that Merlin hadn’t even gotten back yet from watering the horses. Giving a tired sigh, he sat back, leaning his back against a convenient log. This whole test thing was a constant buzz on his mind, never far from thought.

 

He glanced up at the sky, judging the light. It was just passed noon, though with the overcast clouds, the world was dimmer then it normally would be. He knew, though how a mystery, that Anhora would test him today.

 

The sound of a twig snapping drew his gaze up and around. “Merlin.” There was no answer, but he hadn’t expected there to be. Merlin was too far away to have heard and the noise had come from behind him, not in front where he could hear the barely audible murmur of the stream.

 

Standing, he grabbed his blade, belting it on, cinching it tight around his waist. Stepping over the log, he took a hesitant step towards the trees. He glanced back only once. He knew Merlin would be mad, hell, more than mad, but this needed to be done alone. He did feel guilty though. He was supposed to stay by him, protect the half Druid from harm and right now, he was abandoning him, but Merlin could take care of himself.

 

Turning away, he stepped through the underbrush, moving quickly over the many roots and plants, quickly fading into the shadows and disappearing from sight.

 

~*~

 

As he drew back near the clearing, he could feel that something was off. Frowning, he walked quicker, pulling the horses along with him, breaking into the clearing, eyes quickly scanning the small area.

 

The fire was still going, its heat having barely touched the wood. It had only been burning for a little while. If that was so, then where was Arthur? He would have waited until Merlin had gotten back to tell him he was going hunting if that was so.

 

There were no signs of a struggle so that left only that Arthur had left of his own free will, sword with him, since it wasn’t here. He went to send his magic out, to look for the great idiot, but the moment he tried to command it, it wouldn’t listen.

 

He tried again and again, but it refused to listen. It felt like it was almost…hiding inside him, that something out there frightened it, which was a laugh if you thought about it, but put him on edge at the same time.

 

It gave him a bad feeling, like something big was about to happen to Arthur without him there, something that he didn’t want to happen. “Damnit, Arthur! Why do you always have to do this?” He barked angrily to the air, clenching his hands into fists around the horses’ reins he still held. They fidgeted behind him, sensing his anger and the magic boiling just under the surface of his skin.

 

Quickly, he tied the horses up, casting a quick spell to hide them and put out the fire before he was running, ignoring the underbrush that whipped at his exposed skin and tore at his clothing. He was not going to let whatever it was about to happen to Arthur. Once he stopped it, he’d smack the stupid prat _hard_ , since that appeared to be the only way to get through his thick skull and huge ego.

 

Swearing, he kept running through the mist that had risen, unaware of the fact that he was headed in the wrong direction that Arthur had taken.

 

~*~

 

All was quiet, making each step he took louder than it really was. The fog is getting thicker, veiling everything and creating illusions of white and shadow, confusing everything around him. Seeing something moving up ahead, he sprints towards it, only for it to change into the branches of a bush being shaken by a startled rabbit that disappear back into the fog at his approach.

 

Cursing loudly, he strikes a nearby tree with his fist. Sighing, he squares his shoulders, and heads off in a new direction, completely lost by now. He stops on the lip of a small ravine and spots a flash of white against the gray fog, moving away from him through the ravine below.

 

Swearing, he toke off again, knowing that it is Anhora and if he has to, he’ll shake the sorcerer until his teeth rattle to get him to tell him what the next test is. Arthur slips on some damp moss on the way down, ending up sliding down the rest of the way, but he ignores the ache it leaves, scrambling up to chase after the retreating figure.

 

Turning the corner, he stumbles to a stop, taking in the piles of food, the tent and fire…the man he had spared, seated among the much needed food with a smug smirk on his face as he takes in Arthur’s surprised expression. “You…you’re a thief!”

 

“Wasn’t that obvious when you and you’re pet Druid caught me stealing your grain?” He asks, voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

 

“I have more important things to deal with than you at the moment.” He shoots back, stalking away from the man.

 

He lets out an amused laugh. “You didn’t honestly believe my story about my _starving_ children, did you?” He asks.

 

His back stiffens, indignation rolling off of him at the man’s words. He spins around, glaring at the thief. “What kind of a man lies about starving children to save his own skin?” He asks, goading the man.

 

“Your people starve because you let thieves steal their grain.” He says, changing the topic. “That is why they doubt you, their prince they know so little about, who acts like a Druid himself.”

 

“Your father would have never been fooled, would have never shown leniency for me. But _you_ and your little _Druid_ took my story at face value like the bleeding hearts you are. So soft hearted.”

 

“You will hold your tongue, or I will force you to.” He growls out, scowling at the man.

 

“And that’s why he doubts you would make a good king. He fears your time among the Druids has corrupted you, made you blind to the _human_ part of running Camelot.”

 

“You know nothing of what my father thinks‒”

 

“I know he wishes he had another son, one with whom he can be sure of their loyalties, one who isn’t so trusting of the Druid people and who willingly keeps a little Druid _whore_ for his own. You shame him.”

 

He sees red at his last words. He was willing to take the man’s words about himself and his father, but that he should speak of Merlin in such a way, Merlin who has suffered more than most ever will. That was taking it too far. “Pick up your sword!” He declares, stalking back over to tower over the seated figure, drawing his own sword in a swift movement.

 

“Your father must dread the day you take the throne.” He answers, standing with a worldly sigh, then smirking, yanking his sword from where it is buried point first in the dirt between them.

 

Growling, he strikes out, their swords coming together in a clamor of metal on metal. They come together, pressing against each other, trying to force each other to their knees. “He fears you do not have the strength to defeat his enemies.” Growling, he pushes him away, striking out in anger at the man.

 

They come together again and again, swords ringing. He’s losing ground, being forced back as the man presses him. When his sword is struck from his hand, he pushes him away, racing up the incline to grab it. “The king must wonder if you are even his son and not some imposter created by the Druids to take control of his kingdom.”

 

He sees red again, rushing with a yell. He presses, forcing the man back, pushing until his back is up against a tree and he can’t escape. Yelling, he strikes, sword descending against the open man…and hits nothing, sending him off balance and to the forest floor.

 

Struggling up, he looks around and sees Anhora standing behind, face solemn as he stares at the prince. “This is your doing!” He yells.

 

“This was a test, to see what was truly in your heart.” Arthur just glares, dusting dirt off of his hands and picking up his sword, sheathing it. “Why did you kill this man?”

 

“He insulted my honor.”

 

“You could have chosen to ignore his taunts, what harm would they do you?” He asks.

 

“I would not let him insult Merlin like that. He doesn’t deserve it.”

 

“Your Druid friend has endured much in his life. Do you think the words of one man that he will never hear will concern him? Do you think you truly know what it means to defend him when the smallest thing sends you into a rage? How can you defend him when you willingly leave him on his own?”

 

“You will lift this curse, Guardian!” He demands, ignoring the truth of his words.

 

“I cannot. Demanding what is not yours to demand will not help.” Arthur stiffens, glaring. “You have shown that you are willing to kill a man to defend your pride and will use the excuse of defending the pride of others as well. You have failed the test. For this, Camelot will pay dearly.”

 

“My people have done nothing to deserve this!”

 

“Your people suffering is not my doing, it is yours.” He says and then is gone.

 

~*~

 

The moment his magic surfaced from where it has been hiding, he knew something had happened. Swearing aloud, he followed the slight pull that was Arthur’s aura, letting it lead him to where his prince was.

 

He saw the prince standing in a narrow ravine. “Arthur!” He doesn’t stir and Merlin’s worry spikes even higher. Sprinting the last distance, he skidded to a halt beside him, grabbing at his arms, shaking him to get his attention. “Arthur, what’s wrong?”

 

He mumbled something, too low for Merlin to catch. “What was that?”

 

“I have failed and my people will suffer for it.” He said calmly, too calmly, as if the shock has yet to set in.

 

Growling, Merlin did the one thing he had never done to Arthur. Pulling back, he released, fist slamming into his cheek with a wet thump that sent the prince staggering away, clutching his face, disbelief written clear across his face. “Get ahold of yourself. If this is how you act for one mistake, like some emotional woman,” _‘Forgive me Morgana, Gwen, Ygraine.’ He thought silently._ “Then you are not the Arthur I know.” He saw the spark of indignation in his eyes, his spine and shoulder stiffening under his harsh words.

 

“We cannot let one mistake force our resolve to crumble. If we are to fix this, then we must keep strong. You are not alone in this, Arthur.” He finished softly.

 

The drupe in his shoulders is back, but not as pronounced, his eyes still steely in their resolve. “How, how are we to fix this?” He demanded, desperation clear.

 

“Give me time, Arthur. But I will find a way.” He nodded slowly. “Come on, we need to get back to the castle before your father starts to worry about us.” He nodded, still holding his cheek.

 

~*~

 

“What is it? What has happened?” He asked, rushing into the storage room where the grain was.

 

“All our remaining supplies have rotted, every last grain.” He said, storming out shoulder stiff with frustration. Arthur followed him out and through the castle until they were enclosed in the main dining room.

 

“We must preserve all remaining food. Open up the forests, it will keep everyone from starving for now, but what is left here, must not go to them.”

 

“Father, they are starving, they need all the food they can get if they are to survive.” He argued.

 

“We must keep our army fed, if we are to survive any kind of attack. Once the other kingdoms learn of our vulnerability, they will strike.”

 

“If our people die from starvation, then what is there left to protect except empty, barren fields?”

 

“You will not question me. I would rather starve then let my kingdom fall into the hands of some barbaric people or some unfit king. Have you no pride in the Pendragon name?”

 

“How can I let pride rule me, when my people starve?”

 

“You will give the order for them to stop the distribution of our stores.” He growled out, eyes hard.

 

“I’m sorry father, but you will have to give that order.” He said calmly, turning to leave.

 

“I do not make this decision lightly. One day, when you are king, you will learn what it means to make a decision like this.” He didn’t reply, just kept walking away, turning the corner.

 

~*~

 

“They have no idea what is soon to happen.” Arthur replied, voice subdued.

 

“What?” Merlin asked, standing next to him, watching the line grow longer still.

 

“My father plans to stop distributing food to conserve it for our army. He fears our enemies will attack when they hear of our weakness.”

 

“I’m sorry.” He replied lamely, unsure of what else to say.

 

“It is not your fault. You didn’t make this happen.”

 

“I know. I’ll be back later, I want to go look something up.” Arthur nodded, but didn’t turn to look at him, too distracted by what his father was going to do to look away.

 

~*~

 

“Anhora…show yourself.” His voice echoed in the heavy mist. “Anhora!” Growling, he started to walk away, back to where he knew Lancelot waited for him. The Druid hadn’t said a word about him going out, just followed him as he went to saddle his horse, doing likewise. Mordred was with Morgana and Gwen, being watched over by them.

 

“You wanted to speak with me, Druid?” Anhora asked, appearing out of nowhere as usual.

 

“I’ve come to speak with you…about Arthur.” He just stood there silently, waiting for him to continue. “The people are starving, they will soon be dead.” He said, pleading with the sorcerer.

 

“You must believe me when I say it gives me no pleasure to see them suffer.”

 

“If it pains you so, then help me put an end to it.”

 

“It is not in my power or yours, considerable though it is, to lift the curse under which Camelot struggles.”

 

“Then give Arthur another chance. He knew from the beginning that this was his responsibility and the fact that he bore the burden of someone else’s mistake. He can prove himself enough for the curse to be lifted, but he just needs one more chance.”

 

“You have faith in Arthur?”

 

“More than should be sensible, but…I trust him with my life.”

 

He was silent for a few moments, thinking it over. Finally he spoke. “Arthur must go to the Labyrinth of Gedref. There he will face a final test. If he fails this, then there is no hope left for Camelot as the kingdom is slowly destroyed.”

 

“Wait, what kind of test will he face?” He asked as the man disappeared again.

 

“That is for him alone to discover.” His voice whispered through his mind and then he was gone, his aura disappearing with the mist.

 

~*~

 

“Let me come with you!” He yelled at the prat as he finished gathering his things together he would need for the journey to the labyrinth. “You don’t even know what kind of test it will be. I can protect you.”

 

“You’re not coming and that is final. I will not put you in danger.” He said back forcefully, but calmly. He looked up and nodded to Lancelot, trying to get the other Druid to help him persuade the pale Druid. Mordred stood there silently, watching the whole thing with solemn eyes.

 

“But I might be of some help?”

 

“If you get hurt, how will that help?” He asked.

 

“I won’t get hurt. I can protect myself.”

 

“I’ve already made my decision, Merlin. You are staying here.” He could feel the Druid’s angry glare boring into his back as he left, the door cutting it off.

 

Halfway down the hall, Lancelot caught up. “You know, this will not stop him and I am bound to follow and protect him, not restrain him.”

 

“I know that. I just need him to stay here long enough so that I can reach the labyrinth. By the time he catches up, he won’t be able to interfere. Will you do that much for me?” He asked the tanned Druid.

 

“No. If you want to get some distance, then you better leave now and ride hard while he is sulking for he already has his horse saddled and waiting to follow you.” Nodding, he left, hurrying out of the castle.

 

~*~

 

Merlin glared at his silent shadow, but the Druid didn’t even bat an eyelash. Arthur had about an hour’s lead on him, but he would catch up, no matter what he needed to do.

 

The ride was silent between bouts of short sprints and longer walks. His heart was fluttering anxiously, fearing the worst should Arthur get there before he did. Already, they were drawing closer. He could feel its power, like a dull throb on the horizon, drawing them into a trap.

 

When they topped the ledge and saw it, spreading out as far as he could see, he knew this was a bad idea. Squinting, he could see Arthur’s horse, Arthur himself just entering the great maze of hedges.

 

He had already disappeared into it, blocked by the plants by the time he dismounted. Growling, he didn’t even wait for Lancelot, racing off after the idiot, uncaring of what happened to him so long as he could get to the blonde and beat some since into his head.

 

He appeared to not have learned his lesson from last time about leaving Merlin behind to _protect_ him. He would make sure it stuck this time. He raced through, not looking back or seeing the resigned look on Lancelot’s face when he couldn’t pass a barrier at the entrance. He was not part of the test then. Sighing, the Druid sat down with his back to the pillar behind him, keeping an eye out should anyone have followed them.

 

~*~

 

He couldn’t find him! Something…or someone if what he thought was true, was blocking his magic. The hedges were tall, towering over him, forcing him to follow their path. He ran on, searching desperately for Arthur.

 

Another dead end. Yelling in his head, he turned and went back the way he came, trying desperately to remember any lore he might have heard about the Labyrinth of Gedref. Turning another corner, he slowed to a halt, taking the still figure in front of him.

 

White robes stood out starkly against the green of the hedges. His staff looming in front of him. Anhora. “You said Arthur was to face a test and yet here I find you preparing a trap for him.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, anger welling up at Anhora’s games.

 

“The trap isn’t for Arthur…it is for you.” He answered calmly. He spoke quickly, voice a blur as the ancient language rolled off his tongue. Merlin tensed, but it was too late, the vine shooting from the ground to ensnare him, gripping like chain and as flexible as thread. He tried to reach for his magic in desperation and was met with nothing, his magic subdued and chained just like he was.

 

~*~

 

Arthur couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief as he came to the exit of the maze. The endless green had started to play tricks on him and the deafening silence had weighed heavily on him.

 

Walking through, he couldn’t help but stare in amazement. He had been nowhere near the sea and yet here it was, spread out across the horizon, the sound of the surf loud after the silence.

 

Turning, he started to walk along the beach, careful of his steps, watching where he placed each one. Looking up, he froze mid step, staring up at Merlin, the Druid solemn as he watched Arthur approach the table he sat at.

 

“Merlin…”

 

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, full lips pulling down at the edges in a frown, eyes flicking to his left.

 

“Let him go, he has nothing to do with this. I will take your test, but not until he is released.”

 

“That is not possible. Merlin is part of the test. Please sit.” He gestured to the chair.

 

Glowering at the man, he sat. “I thought I told you to stay in Camelot.”

 

“Since when have I listened to you?” He asked, though his voice was subdued.

 

Sighing, Arthur looked at the sorcerer. “Let’s get on with it.”

 

He nodded. “There are two goblets before you. One of the goblets contains a deadly poison. The other goblet, a harmless liquid. All the liquid from both goblets must be drank. And each of you may only drink from a single goblet.”

 

“And what will that prove?” He asked, voice tense.

 

“What it proves is for you to decide. If you pass the test, the curse will be lifted.”

 

“Let’s think about this. What if I drink from my goblet first?”

 

“If it’s poisoned, you’ll die.”

 

“But a poison that affects you will not affect me.”

 

“There are poisons out there that can harm both of us, Merlin. He will have already seen that possibility and has added it in.”

 

“But if it’s not poisoned, then yours will be and I will not let you drink it just to prove to some old man that you are worthy of being forgiven for something you didn’t _do!_ ” He nearly yelled the last word.

 

“This must be some trick and there is a way around it we do not see.”

 

“It is as simple as can be, Merlin. One of us must die.”

 

Merlin’s head shot up and glared at the prince. “Shut up. No one is dying today, not if I can stop it.”

 

“We must figure out which has the poison, then I’ll drink it.”

 

“ _You?_ Who says you will drink it? I will not let you die for me Arthur. _I_ will drink it.”

 

“This is my test and I will drink.”

 

“That doesn’t even make sense. How is my life more important than yours? Do you think I could bear to watch you die? Do you want to die so much? This is no time to play the hero, _Arthur!_ ” This time he did yell.

 

“No, I don’t want to die and leave you all alone…but if it mean that you will live to see a new day, then I am willing to.”

 

“Why are so eager to die for me?” He asked softly, voice small and just barely heard over the sound of the waves.

 

“I’m not. I would rather live, but if this is the only way, then so be it.” He was quiet for a few seconds, staring at the goblets. “I’m glad you’re here though, Merlin.”

 

“I’ve got it.” He looked positively miserable as he spoke. Arthur waited for him to continue. “If we pour all into one goblet, then we know for sure that it is poisoned.”

 

Arthur nodded, accepting this as truth. Pulling in a deep breath, he looked to the left. “What!?” Merlin spun, looking for the threat, just like he knew he would.

 

Snatching up both goblets, he stood, stepping away from the table. Merlin turned back and saw this. “Arthur, don’t!”

 

“I’m sorry, Merlin, but this is the way it must happen.” He poured one into the other and before Merlin could take a step towards him, drowned it down, throat only registering the coolness of the fluid.

 

The last thing he heard before blackness took his vision was Merlin yelling his name, a thud as he fell to the ground and the sound of the surf.

 

~*~

 

“What have you done?” He yelled, running around the table to crouch down next to the felled prince. “Arthur!”

 

He looked up at Anhora. “Please…let me take his place.” His eyes stung, vision blurring around the edges.

 

“This was Arthur’s test, not yours.”

 

“You’ve killed him!” He yelled, jumping to his feet.

 

“He is not dead; he has merely consumed a sleeping draught.” He said, derailing the Druid’s anger and grief. “He will come around shortly.”

 

“What?” He asked in confusion.

 

“A unicorn is pure of heart. If you kill one, you must make amends by proving you also are pure of heart. Arthur was willing to sacrifice his life to save yours. He has proven what is truly in his heart. The curse will be lifted.”

 

“But Arthur was not the one to kill the unicorn.”

 

“But he was responsible for all underneath him. The moment he saw the unicorn, he could have yelled out, stopping them. Instead, he let it distract him until it was too late. The knight who shot it knew not what would happen, should he kill the unicorn, since he had not forewarned his men. The unicorn deemed him the one who should be tested. Thus he became the one chosen to take these tests.”

 

He looked down at his sleeping prince and when he looked up, Anhora was gone.

 

~*~

 

He was…alive. But how was that possible? On second thought, why did his head hurt so much? Groaning, he opened his eyes a crack, blinking to clear them, to see what was leaning over him. “You great _idiot_!” Merlin yelled at him, yanking him up by his chest plate to press trembling lips to his.

 

Arthur just stared up at him, too stunned to voice anything in reply. “Don’t you ever do something like that again.” He said softly, voice hitching as he buried his face into the side of his neck, his body trembling as he released the pent up worry he had gathered as he waited for the blonde to awaken.

 

“I’m sorry…so sorry. I swear, I won’t do that to you again.” He held the trembling Druid, until he stopped crying. Pulling him back, he kissed him on his forehead, his tear stained eyelids, his checks, his nose and finally his lips, holding him there to reassure him that he was very much alive. “I’m sorry.” He whispered as they pulled apart. Merlin just nodded and hugged him again, Arthur’s arms wonderfully tight around him, giving more proof that the prince was alive.

 

~*~

 

The ending of the curse was not so dramatic to the two, though it did seem a miracle to those who had gone so long without food or water…and Arthur would not begrudge them, even if no one knew he was the one who had fixed this. Only Merlin and Lancelot knew and he wanted to keep it that way, only giving some vague reference to magic helping out when his father appeared in front of them.

 

Back in Arthur’s room, the two sat in silence, Merlin just leaning against him. “You know, you could have told him.” He finally spoke, breaking their comfortable silence.

 

“I could have, but I didn’t want to. He wouldn’t have understood, why I would throw it all away, the crown, and the kingdom, just for you, to protect you. I’m sure he would do it for mother, but she’s human and you’re…”

 

“Druid, even if only half. I know, but I also know that you very much wish for your father’s approval, as all sons’ do. He is proud of you Arthur, there is no disputing that. You just have differing viewpoints and are both stubborn and pigheaded and want to always get your way and…”

 

“I get it Merlin, you can stop now.” He growled out, elbowing the Druid in the side in his annoyance.

 

Merlin just grinned, unrepentantly, at him. “And I am proud of you Arthur. No matter what happens, I always will be.” He said softly, face earnest and sincere.

 

“You’re such a girl, sometimes.” He growled, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him down. “Thank you, though.” He whispered against his cloth covered shoulder.

 

They stayed like that in silence before Merlin shifted, pulling away a little to look at him. His face was flushed as he spoke, stammer more pronounced. “Would you mind…i-if I stayed here tonight?” He looked away, flushing brighter.

 

“We haven’t shared a bed since we were little.” Arthur said instead of answering.

 

“If you don’t want me to, then that’s alright.” He said hastily, moving to stand up.

 

Arthur snagged his wrist, yanking him back down onto the bed. “I didn’t say I minded or not, let me finish.” Merlin stared at him, nodding. “Good. We haven’t shared a bed since we were little, but I don’t mind. Why?” He asked, trying to read his mind through sight alone.

 

“I…I feel like you’ll just disappear if I’m not there to watch over you.” He admitted, softly, looking away again.

 

“Mer _lin_ , you woman!” He huffed, yanking him forward to press their lips together quickly, catching the Druid off balance, leaving him clutching at Arthur’s shoulders to keep from falling off the bed. “I’m not going anywhere, got it?” Merlin just nodded dumbly, unsure what to say. “Good, now if you want to stay here, go get something to wear for bed…and maybe a wash as well, you smell.” He smirked even as he wrinkled his nose. Merlin huffed and stood, stalking to the door and shutting it loudly as Arthur laughed at his retreat.

 

~*~

 

The days melded together into weeks as nothing significant happened now that the talks had finished. Morgana and Ygraine still schemed over wedding details and the two avoided them as much as possible, often escaping the castle altogether with Lancelot and Mordred in tow.

 

Their routines mostly stayed the same, with training in the morning, followed by a light breakfast and then the two would seclude themselves in the library or Arthur’s rooms, pouring over musty parchment. If it was a court day, they sat in, watching Uther in action as he ran the kingdom. Lunch was spent with the royal family or just the two of them or with Lancelot and Mordred. Then more time spent over musty parchment or sometimes Merlin would work with Gaius, teaching each other medicine of the two races.

 

The only real change was their sleeping arrangements, though only a few knew this. Every few days or so, Merlin would stay with Arthur, the two talking into the night before sleep finally dragged them down. It was one such night that Merlin woke up with a gasp, breathing as if he had run a mile.

 

“Merlin, what is it?” Arthur asked, holding the shaking Druid up. He shook, clutching at his head as if trying to keep it from rolling off.

 

“I…I’m not sure.” He huffed out, still shaking like a leaf.

 

He gave a sharp intake of breath, head rolling back as if hit and then passed out, Arthur keeping him from falling to the cold stone floor. He roused a few minutes later to Arthur’s instant calling, his voice betraying his worry as it cracked on his name. “Merlin, what happened?” He asked.

 

“I…I’m not sure, but it was powerful.” He whispered. His next words made Arthur freeze in worry. “We should check on Mordred and Morgana.”

 

~*~

 

Lancelot was coming towards them, the smaller, pale Halfling cradled in his arms, worry clear on his face. “He woke me up when he shouted and then passed out. What’s happened?” He demanded.

 

“I’m not sure, but it was big. He should wake up in a few minutes, but we need to check on Morgana.” They went back the way they had come, headed for Morgana’s rooms.

 

As they drew near, Mordred finally stirred, looking shaken and paler than usual, but unhurt. “Merlin!” His voice trembled a little.

 

“I know.” He answered, raising a hand to knock on Morgana’s door.

 

It opened before he could knock though, Gwen’s worried face peering through the gap. “Oh, thank god, Merlin, something’s happened to Morgana.” She said, opening the door for them to enter.

 

“I know, it happened to us as well.” He indicated himself and Mordred who was now on his feet. They heard a murmur and looked to see Morgana wakening, her eyes clouded still with whatever it was that gripped her. “My lady?” Merlin asked softly, drawing her piercing blue eyes to him.

 

“There’s fire and a work room. Someone’s pouring something into a mold…and then gold, it’s gold, how is that possible.” She had come back to herself as she spoke. “Merlin…they turned lead into gold.” She whispered, voice breaking the unnatural silence.

 

~*~

 

It was Gwen who discovered what had happened. She had gone to see her father the next morning, to check that he was alright. He was found in his work room, the fire long since gone out and cold, a look of surprise on his face as whoever had been in the room with him slipped the knife through his ribs, piercing his heart.

 

Chaos descend soon after as Morgana took the shattered woman away as guards scoured the city and nearby villages and inns for anyone that had passed through so late at night. Many of the local sorcerer’s had come forward to Merlin, asking about what had happened last night, what they had felt, and Merlin could tell them nothing.

 

They all sat in Morgana’s room, watching over the now orphaned handmaiden as she slept from a sleeping draught that Morgana had, coaxed, forced, down the woman’s throat to ease her sleep.

 

“I thought that was impossible, changing base metals to gold.” Arthur finally broke the silence.

 

“It’s supposed to be. No one has ever been able to achieve it…except it appears someone has, if what we felt last night was anything to go by.” The room is silent as they take in this information and wonder what will happen next.

 

~*~

 

The room was silent as they waited for news. So far, all that had been found out was that a stranger had made his way here from the west and had stayed in the inn, keeping to himself. He’d gotten in contact with Tom, Gwen’s father, soon after. No one knew what they had spoken of, but the blacksmith had shut down his forge early.

 

The fact that he had bought Gwen a present the same day he died, a dress intended for her pleasure, had sent the grieving daughter further into tears, shoulders shaking as she sobbed, Morgana a comforting presence in the background. The two had yet to leave her room.

 

Merlin for his part was holed up in the library, seeking out any bit of information he could find on turning lead into gold. Arthur found him there, books in pillars around, creating a forest of paper and ink, blinking owlishly over an ancient looking tome, a candle flickering nearby in an enclosed lamp.

 

Merlin. “Merlin!” The Druid finally looked up, expression confused as Arthur glowered down at him. “Put the book down Merlin.” He commanded and he complied, still looking confused. “Now leave everything and go get something to eat.”

 

“Why?”

 

“God damnit, Merlin! You’ve been at this since morning and skipped lunch. Now you will go get something to eat or I will drag you to the kitchens myself and force you.”

 

He looked at the small window, finally noticing the steadily darkening sky. “Oh.”

 

“Yes ‘oh’, now go.” Merlin sighed but complied, pushing his chair back and following the prince out of the royal library. As the smells from the kitchen reached them, his stomach finally took notice and complained loudly, informing him that he really had missed lunch and possibly hadn’t had enough breakfast.

 

Arthur motioned for one of the kitchen maids to prepare a plate for each of them and soon after, they were ensconced in Arthur’s rooms, eating in comfortable silence. “Have you found anything?” Arthur finally asked when they were finished.

 

“Only conformations of what I already know. Turning lead into gold is based from alchemy, but no one has been able to actually prove the theories. There have even been attempts to combine magic and alchemy, but none were successful. I think whoever did this must have found a way to use magic.”

 

“And so we have no idea who killed Tom, what they want that kind of magic for, or where they’ve gone. I hate waiting.” Arthur complained lowly, pushing up from his chair to pace the room.

 

“We do know one thing, they will be back to finish whatever it was they started.” The sentence hung in the air between them, weighing heavily on their minds.

 

~*~

 

“No, no, you stay here. It will only take me a few minutes.” Morgana told Gwen, stepping towards the door. Gwen gave without a fight, sinking back onto the bed. Smiling in triumph, she left and started down the stairs.

 

It had come to her attention that Gwen had no clothes to change into and her clothes, although of better quality than anything Gwen owned, were too big for the more petite woman. As the sun sank down, she made her way through Camelot to Gwen’s now empty home.

 

She sped up as the shadows lengthened, stopping at a nearby line of clothing to pull them off and tucking them into the basket she carried. Gwen’s room was easy to find, small, but clean. Pulling out things she would need, she switched what she had pulled off the line, laying those on the bed.

 

Something made a clamor in the smithy next to their home. Straightening quickly, she frowned. Finishing packing, she tiptoed to the door that connected the two building, pressing it open silently and slid through, the small dagger she kept on her always in her hand, a steady, comforting weight.

 

Small beady eyes glared at her from atop a bag of coal where the rat had knocked some out as it climbed over it. Sighing in relief, she shut the door and made her way towards the outer door. As she skirted some over turned baskets, a small speck of color drew her eye.

 

A pouch lay on the ground, something shiny sticking out of its loosened top. Scooping it up, she peered inside. It was a stone, amber colored and backed with silver that curved around the rounded stone to form claws that held the stone steady.

 

As she watched, it started to glow, reacting to something. Her eyes widened as she realized what it was she had found. Glancing around furtively, she shoved it back into the leather pouch, pulled in the draw strings tight and tucking it into the basket, letting the clothes cover it up. She glanced around quickly as she opened the door and slipped out, shutting the door behind her and walking at a steady pace back to the castle.

 

~*~

 

“What is it, Morgana?” Arthur asked as he and Merlin walked in shutting the door securely behind them.

 

“This.” She held out the pouch, turning it over as Merlin held out a hand. It landed heavily into his pale palm. As it struck his palm, his eyes grew wide, a gasp escaping through thinned lips. “This is it.”

 

“What? What is it?” Arthur demanded looked between the two of them and at the stone.

 

“It’s what was used to change the lead to gold.” Morgana supplied, striding to her bed and sat down in a flourish of skirt, leaning against Gwen as the woman watched all that was happening silently.

 

“You’re sure?” They both nodded. “Then we have a way to draw him out. He won’t leave without this. Sooner or later, he will try and get his hands on it and when he does, we’ll strike.” Arthur declared, a hard smile on his lips as a plan finally formed. It would involve waiting, but it was at least a plan of action.

 

“So who will hold onto it?” Merlin asked.

 

~*~

 

In the end, it was decided that Merlin would hold onto it. He didn’t want to, feeling the malicious blood magic that had been used to create it, but he agreed anyways, tucking the pouch with the stone in it into his tunic, a strip of leather holding it around his neck.

 

For two days, they waited, nothing happening and leaving Arthur fidgeting and even Merlin started to wonder if the sorcerer would ever come for his lost prize.

 

Gwen seemed to have composed herself enough to continue working as Morgana’s maid, but the three of them still kept an eye on her, sensing her flagging spirit as she mourned for her lost father. Surprisingly, it was Lancelot who came to the rescue, speaking with the maid softly as they watched their charges at dinner, keeping her company while others were busy. Merlin knew Lance could empathize with her, his own father killed when he was younger, though the Druid had never told him how.

 

“Are you sure? I could go down there with you.” Morgana said, eyeing her maid worriedly. She had a basket over her arm as she readied to go down to her now empty home to get some more of her things.

 

“I am my lady. I need to go there eventually and it is better done sooner rather than later. I will be back shortly.” Morgana finally gave, dismissing her maid to leave.

 

As she walked, she steeled herself against the onslaught of pain and memories she was sure to feel the moment she stepped foot into her home. As her house came into view, she nearly stopped, eyes watering and throat closing up with emotion, but she pushed on, opening the door and sliding into the darkened room.

 

Everything was as she had remembered it. Nothing was disturbed from the last time she had been here and it made it seem worse, that the death of her father mattered nothing to the bigger picture of the world. Holding herself together, she went to her dresser where her clothing was held and started to pack more into her basket.

 

She nearly let out a scream as someone grabbed her around the waist, but before she could, a hand was clamped down on her mouth, pulling her back against a large chest. “Do not scream or I will kill you where you stand. Understood?” The man’s voice was rough and she could feel the scratch of facial hair as he spoke into her ear, jaw brushing her cheek. She nodded in understanding. “Good.” He released her mouth. “Where is the stone?” He demanded.

 

“What? What stone?” She cried in fright as he shook her.

 

“Don’t ‘what stone’ me. I know you have it or else it would still be here. Tell me where it is.”

 

“I don’t…I don’t have it on me. I…I hid it up at the castle.” He let out a growl and a curse, throwing her forward.

 

“You will listen and listen well. I want that stone. You will bring it to me or else I will kill you in your sleep.” She nodded shakily. “When you have it, you will follow the eastern bound road. The first branch in the road you come to, take it. I will come to you.” She nodded again and he left before she could do much else but stare. Standing up unsteadily, she grabbed her basket that had fallen and left, not looking back as she rushed back to the castle.

 

~*~

 

“You’re sure?” Arthur asked, looking at Gwen as she sat in a chair in his rooms. Merlin stood next to him while Morgana stood behind Gwen’s chair, a soothing hand laid on her shoulder.

 

“Yes. He asked, demanded for the stone specifically. He gave me directions for where to meet up with him…to give it to him.” She shrank in slightly as the meeting ran through her mind again.

 

“What do we do now?” Morgana asked, stepping around the chair to look at Arthur. “I don’t want Gwen to meet with him. He will surely kill her the moment he has the stone.” Merlin nodded with her.

 

“Perhaps if I went under glamor, as Gwen. I could take him on easily with my magic.” Merlin offered.

 

“Even though I call you a girl, Merlin, you don’t act like one. You would give yourself away before you even got close enough to see them, let alone to spell them.” Arthur shot his idea down, starting to pace the room as he thought.

 

“It was just a suggestion.” He muttered, sending a halfhearted glare at him.

 

“If we could just get him to come after one of us, we could take him on easily.” Arthur mused.

 

“Sire…” He didn’t look up. “Arthur!” Gwen said loudly, startling them and she blushed, covering her mouth in embarrassment at the outburst. When he didn’t tell her off for being too familiar with him, she tentatively gave her idea. “I…I can go and meet him and say…that I don’t have the stone anymore…that one of you has it now. I could give him some indication that whoever it is plans on a journey and can be easily over taken then.” They stared at her as the idea sunk in.

 

“Gwen…that’s just brilliant. You could say I found you with it and thought you stole it, so I took it out of jealousy. Once he thinks I have it, we could plan excursion somewhere and draw him in like wasps to honey.”

 

“Are you sure about this Gwen? You don’t have to put yourself in danger if you feel duty bound. We won’t force you.” Merlin asked her softly, concern evident in his voice.

 

“I’m sure. You’ve all taken care of me over the last few day and I want to help in any way I can.” She said with a firm resolve, eyes steely her determination.

 

~*~

 

The sun was slowly sinking under the horizon as she left, her horse nimble footed, and traversing the rutted road with ease in the dimming light. As soon as there was some distance from the main wall and the road, the forest sprang up, quickly swallowing her in its green depths.

 

Her horse, sensing her agitation and nervousness, twitched beneath her, jumping as she jump when a bird called out loudly nearby, when a limp broke in the distance, ringing loudly through the silence.

 

It was a slow progress, but soon the off shooting road from the main came into view and she turned her horse towards it, guiding the creature down it. She had been riding for some time and nothing happened. She was just about to turn back when someone stepped onto the road ahead. She looked back and saw someone else behind her, sword in hand as he blocked her retreat.

 

She pulled her horse up, waiting for the man who had threatened her to appear. She didn’t have long to wait as he slid out of the shadows, pulling the hood of his cloak back to look up at her. “Where is it?” He demanded.

 

“P-please, sir…” She let the tremor in her voice through.

 

“Where is it!?” he demanded again.

 

“I…I don’t have it.” He swore loudly and her horse shied away a little, startled by his anger. “Please, my mistress, she found it on me. She thought I stole it from someone and took it, saying I didn’t deserve it.”

 

“Who is your mistress?” He asked, a little calmer.

 

“T-the lady Morgana. She wouldn’t have normally taken it, but I think she was jealous of me, it was such a pretty stone and she must have wanted it for herself…” She was babbling now, the tremor back in her voice.

 

“Enough!” She shut up. “Can you get it back from her without her knowing?”

 

She shook her head. “She has taken to keeping it on her, in case I try to take it back.” He swore again. “B-but…” He looked at her sharply, nodding for her to continue. “My mistress, the lady Morgana, she plans a trip tomorrow, to her father’s grave. She plans to just bring Prince Arthur with her as protection.”

 

“You’re absolutely sure of this?” She nodded, twitching her hands on the reins, her horse fidgeting where it stood. “Good. You may go, but if you lie…” She nodded, eyes widening until the whites of her eyes showed. “Go!” He yelled, striking her horse’s hindquarters, sending it wheeling and racing back the way it had come.

 

~*~

 

“NO!” Arthur yelled as Morgana glared at him across the room. “I will not put you in danger. You will stay here, even if I have to tie you to the bed.”

 

“You can’t do this without me.” She seethed.

 

“I can. Merlin will use a glamor on himself and veil Lancelot from sight while he and I go to your father’s grave.”

 

“He will never pass as me.” She tried to persuade him.

 

“He doesn’t have to, he only has to look like you from a distance. He won’t be doing any talking with them.” He answered, slowly gaining his calm.

 

“You know, I really wish they would stop talking about me like I’m not here.” Merlin whispered loudly to Mordred, the younger Halfling on his lap as they watched the two stubborn nobles square off against each other.

 

 _“It doesn’t look like they will anytime soon.”_ He answered in his mind. The snort behind him showed that Lancelot had been privy to the boy’s answer. The three humans looked at them in confusion.

 

~*~

 

“I must admit, _Mer_ lin, you do look good in a dress.” Arthur teased the Druid.

 

Merlin blushed, which meant Morgana’s glamor did as well and smacked him hard on the arm. Arthur smirked, even as he rubbed the sore spot. “Prat.” It was odd, seeing Morgana’s lips move and hearing Merlin’s voice in its place.

 

“Are you two _girls_ done flirting, or should we come back in a few minutes?” Morgana demanded icily, still angry after losing the argument last night.

 

“Were not girls, and yes we’re ready.” Arthur answered, decked out in his chainmail, and some light plate armor. The red surcoat he wore glowed brightly against the grey of the armor, golden dragon shining like his hair.

 

His sword was belted at his side, a comforting weight. Lancelot was dressed similarly, though once they were mounted, Merlin would cast the spell to conceal him, the horse, and any tracks they made in case they were followed.

 

Morgana still glared, but she appeared worried as well, shifting on her feet restlessly as she looked at the three men. “Don’t get yourselves killed, alright?” She said sternly, eyes suspiciously bright. They nodded and left quickly.

 

~*~

 

“Merlin…” Arthur said under his breath. He didn’t even look in Arthur’s direction as he answered just as softly.

 

“Two behind us. They’ve been following us since we left the city. Nothing ahead just yet.” Arthur nodded minutely.

 

They made it there shortly, the rolling fields surrounding the marker, empty, or what they could see. Someone could hide in the trough of one of the hills and not be seen until you were on them. They dismounted quickly, Merlin doing a good impersonation of a court lady being handed down by her prince and Arthur couldn’t help but smirk, making Merlin send him a warning glare.

 

Walking up the hill, she – he – knelt down, spreading the skirts around her in front of the obelisk in dedication to Morgana’s deceased father. He saw her shoulder stiffen slightly and knew whoever it was they were facing was near. He leaned forward, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders as he asked softly, “How many?”

 

“Six.” He answered just as softly. “One sorcerer among them.”

 

“Can you handle them?” Arthur asked.

 

“Yes, but you and Lance need to be careful. They may be human, but you’re still out numbered five to two.”

 

“We always are.” He stood, turning to look around and saw them creeping forward. He swore, pretending to be startled and drew his sword. ‘Morgana’s’ eyes widened in fear as she looked up, standing and putting herself behind Arthur.

 

“Lance is behind two of them. When you attack, I’ll reveal him.” Arthur nodded and squared his stance, standing between Merlin and the five encroaching men.

 

“Now.” He said softly. Arthur just charged, engaging the closest one. He barely noticed when the veil on Lancelot dissipated, revealing the Druid.

 

As he fought, he forced his opponent to turn. Merlin stood there in the borrowed dress, glamor gone as he watched them fight, eyes starting to glow gold as he readied to do another spell. He didn’t see the man sneaking up behind him. “Merlin!” The Druid whirled around.

 

~*~

 

Merlin was so focused on Arthur and Lance’s fight that he didn’t notice the sorcerer sneaking up on him until the man was nearly on him, sword out and swinging for a bit of his flesh. His magic jumped to his rescue, knocking the blade off course enough so that it went right by him to embed itself into the soft earth of field.

 

He went to take a step back, trying to get out of range of his blade long enough to work his magic, but he forgot about the skirts around his legs, the hem twisting in his feet and knocking him over as it ripped out. Morgana wasn’t going to like that.

 

He rolled aside, the blade landing where he had just been. He acted on instinct, shoving the sorcerer away and scrambled to his feet, hampered by the unfamiliar clothing he wore. His slippered feet scrabbled for purchase on the soft earth. He kicked them off, twos digging into the soil and propelling him up and away.

 

Blood was pumping in his ears and he could make out the distant fighting of the other two, but knew he was too far away for them to help. He felt the breath get knocked out of him as a spell struck him in the back, knocking him back to the ground. The sorcerer was on him before he could do anything but turn over, sword gone, but knife in hand.

 

He grabbed his wrist before it could descend, holding it away with sheer will and strength as the man loomed over him. “Where is it? I will have my stone.” He was growling, eyes crazed.

 

He blinked up in surprise as the real Morgana, dressed in tunic and trousers, appeared behind the man, sword in hand held over her head. Before the man had time to react, she brought it down, dealing him a mortal wound. Merlin pushed him off, scrambling to get to his feet and away.

 

“Thanks.” He huffed out.

 

She shot him a glare. “You tore out the hem.”

 

“Sorry. I’m not used to fighting in skirts.” He admitted, blushing, even as he said it. He turned away to see how Arthur and Lancelot were doing. They had finished themselves, jogging over to the two, worried looks sent his way.

 

“I’m alright. He just caught me off guard.” He told them.

 

“I thought I told you to stay in the castle.” Arthur yelled at Morgana.

 

Morgana’s jaw hardened, her temper rising. “If I hadn’t been here, Merlin would have been in a pinch. You should be thanking me, not yelling at me.”

 

Arthur went to retort, but Merlin stopped him with a hand on his arm. “She’s right.” He glared at her, but didn’t retort, instead shrugging it off.

 

They all turned as someone laughed nearby. Turning, they saw the sorcerer on the ground, mouth red with his own blood as he stared up at them with still crazed eyes. “You think this is it, that it’s over. This is only the beginning. She will stop you, no matter what it takes.” Before they could even voice a question, he was slumping, grin still plastered on his face as he died.

 

They all looked at each other, unsure of what to say and unease creeping up their spines at his words. It appeared their enemy was still out there and wasn’t finished yet.

 

~*~


	6. Part 6

The forest echoed with an unnatural silence, making Merlin’s skin itch and his magic jumpy. Something was here; he could taste a hint of magic in the air, something corrosive and violent, death. It made him shiver and keep his magic close to the surface, ready for anything.

 

Something made a noise ahead and he jumped, his nerves and stomach knotted. “Relax, Merlin. It’s probably more scared of us.” Arthur joked, trying to ease his jumpiness. Something crashed and snapped nearby and then it was upon them. It was huge, body scaled and looking like it was a jigsaw puzzle of too many different animals to be real.

 

He felt his eyes widen and then Arthur was turning, seeing the huge beast in front of them. He reacted on instinct, catching the prince’s hand and tugging, pulling him away from the creature, forcing him to drop the spear in his hand to run faster.

 

The knights around them followed their example, taking flight as the thing followed behind them, crashing through the underbrush and snapping low hanging limbs off of trees as it growled, enraged that its prey was getting away.

 

He didn’t see what it was, but one minute he was next to Arthur, the next he was on the ground, breath knocked out of him from his landing as the other’s kept going. He turned onto his back, staring up in fright as the thing loomed near, heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t need to know what it was to know that one bite from those huge jaws would mean certain death.

 

He jumped as Arthur and one of his knights grabbed him, hauling him back up onto his feet. “Run, Merlin!” Arthur yelled into his ear, pulling him out of his daze. They were off, feet flying, kicking up dirt and leaves as Lancelot took up the knights hold on him, he and Arthur keeping him from falling again.

 

They ran for nearly a mile before slowing. Everything was quiet again. “Anyone missing?” Arthur gasped out as he fought to catch his breath.

 

Merlin looked around and realized with dread that one was missing. “Sir Bedivere.” He said softly just as the thing gave a huge roar and a man in the distance let out a blood curdling yell of pain and fear…then silence.

 

~*~

 

“It is called the Questing Beast. It is an Omen. A beast that signals a time of great strife is soon to be upon us, but also it can mean great change.” Gaius said aloud, reading from the bestiary in his hands. “The last one ever seen was fifteen years ago, when you first made the treaty with the Druids.”

 

“Whatever it is, it is killing my people and it must be stopped. Arthur, you will gather the guard and ride out at once. I want this thing dead.” Arthur bowed to his father.

 

“It will be seen to.” The prince answered, following his father out.

 

“This is bad, Merlin. The questing beast…”

 

“I know Gaius.” He said softly, face drawn as he recalled what exactly the questing beast was capable of. “The last one sighted here was also sighted in Avlin. It killed many of our best warriors before we could stop its rampage. I know what this beast is capable of.” His only Druid friend, a disciple of the Temple of Avalon, Will, lost his father to the beast. Afterwards, he had gone to live with his mother and they hadn’t seen him since. It wasn’t too long after that that the bullying started and then Arthur had appeared.

 

“Then you understand that this could be a suicide mission that Arthur is on?” He asked him.

 

“Yes, but he will not be alone. I will go with him, protect him at whatever the cost.” Lancelot stood behind him, a firm hand on his shoulder, giving his support. They would both protect the prince.

 

~*~

 

“Merlin…”

 

“No, Arthur. You know as well as I do that you can’t kill this thing on your own. Lance and I are coming with you and that is final.” Merlin glared at him with burning blue eyes that flashed gold whenever the light struck them.

 

Arthur sighed, but squared his shoulders. “Fine. Lancelot, watch over him.” The darker Druid just bowed his head. Nodding, he turned back to face those he had gathered. “You have heard what has happened. A beast walks this kingdom leaving nothing but death behind in its wake. I have gathered you because you are the best this kingdom has to offer. The bravest, mightiest, noblest of us all and it is by our swords that this beast will be brought down. We fight for the citizens of Camelot so that they may walk under the sun without fear. We fight for Camelot herself and for the bright future we have so painstakingly forged these long years. For the love of Camelot!”

 

“The love of Camelot!” They echoed back, their voices raised in a shout. They mounted quickly, setting out at a fast pace that ate away at the leagues until soon they stood in front of the beast’s lair. Noise echoed from its shadowy depths, making the horses shy in terror.

 

“Merlin.” Arthur softly, away from the other. The Druid looked up from where he knelt adjusting the laces on his boots. “Please be careful.”

 

“You as well.” Before the others noticed them, Arthur bent down, pressing their lips together quickly before straightening from his bent posture.

 

No one spoke above a whisper as they advanced. Torches lit, they crept through the cave until the tunnel split into three. Arthur motioned silently, splitting the nine of them into groups of three. Merlin and Lancelot remained with the prince as the other set off deeper into the cave system.

 

They took the tunnel on the far right. Snuffing out the torch he carried, he cast a silent spell and a globe of soft blue light appeared, more steady then the torch and casting less shadows. Nodding in thanks, Arthur advanced, the two following.

 

A few minutes later, they stumbled into a larger cave, this one littered in bones, human and animal alike. Arthur advanced further, Merlin keeping to the wall, looking for anything that might tell him something.

 

They all jumped as a growl rumbled through the room, turning just as the beast advanced into the cave, looming over them. Arthur wasted no time, charging forward and taking the thing by surprise briefly. His blade struck, but left no make as it jumped away, hissing.

 

Merlin didn’t need the look from Lance to know what needed to be done. The words rolled off his tongue easily, jumping to the blades in Arthur and Lancelot’s hands, making them shine unnaturally blue as the magic reinforced their ability to pierce the creature of magic.

 

Arthur charged again, nicking the thing on the leg, blood seeping out. It roared in pain, striking out at the prince. Merlin was too slow to react as the blonde went flying to land on a pile of bones, the questing beast following with a pounce.

 

As it bore down on him, something clicked inside his head. Screaming in rage and fear, his magic reared, yanking the sword from Lancelot’s hands. It hovered momentarily and then in a flash of silver, buried itself into the beast spine. It gave a horrible wail and then burst apart in an explosion of magic and flesh.

 

Ignoring everything else, he rushed forward, skidding to a halt on his knees as he peered down at the prince. “It didn’t bite you. You’re alright.” He was babbling and tugging at his armor to see what damage there was. He pulled at his pauldron, pushing the metal armor off his shoulder. His hand brushed against chainmail and came back crimson with blood. Paling visibly, he tugged at the chainmail and gambeson exposing his shoulder. There, seeping blood against his tanned shoulder was a perfect puncture mark of the Questing Beast’s fang.

 

~*~

 

 

“Where is he? Where is my son?” Uther demanded, crashing into the room, Ygraine and Morgana just behind him. Arthur lay on the table, stripped of his armor, pale in the low light of the room. He was breathing, but only just, his chest rising shallowly with each inhale, skin shinny with feverish sweat.

 

“What has happened?” Ygraine asked, tears flowing as she stared at her son.

 

“He was bitten by the questing beast, my lady. To be bitten means death and no amount of spells or potions can heal those bitten.” Gaius answered in a resigned voice, shoulders drooping as he wiped more sweat from his brow.

 

“Where is Merlin?” Morgana asked, looking for the pale Druid and his body guard.

 

The look on Gaius’s face spoke volumes of the Druid’s actions. “He refuses to give up, my lady. He has secluded himself in the library, looking for a solution.”

 

“Guards!” The men outside the door came in, bowing to their king. “Help me carry my son to his rooms. If this is…fatal, then I want him to be somewhere comfortable.” They didn’t even blink at the king’s pause, just bowed again and stepped forward, helping their king to lift the felled prince and to carry him from the room.

 

“Gaius, do you think he will find a solution?” Morgana asked, looking after her departed step family.

 

“I hope so. I really do.”

 

~*~

 

“Merlin, you must sleep.” Lancelot spoke softly, trying to keep from startling the sleep deprived Druid. Merlin looked up and even his own hardened heart could not help but go out to the be grieved man. His eyes were bloodshot from holding back tears and sleep. Shadows just grew darker under his eyes as his skin took on a waxy complexion. His hands shook slightly, making the parchment in his hands flutter gently.

 

“I…I can’t. I need to look. This is all my fault. If I had only been faster, this wouldn’t have happened. I need to fix this, _NOW!_ ” Merlin shouted the last part, shoving the parchment aside to pull a scroll closer, ignoring the worried looks from Lancelot and Mordred.

 

He turned to the younger Druid. “Go to bed. I will watch over his tonight.” The boy turned worried blue eyes up to him, but nodded, leaving as silently as he had come. Sighing, Lancelot lowered himself to the cold stone floor, resting his back against it as he listened to Merlin’s mumbles and the sound of rustling parchment.

 

~*~

 

He knew he had found the answer the moment he laid his hands on the scroll, his magic giving a tingle as it recognized the magic in the words on the parchment. Glancing at Lancelot, he saw the Druid slept, back supported by the wall he leaned against, head lolling to the side, he opened it.

 

It was simple, really, a story of how a mother, grieving for her lost son, had sought out the priests of the Old Religion, asking for their help to bring him back. They had agreed, but warned her there was a price; a life for a life. She had readily agreed, giving up her own life so that her son may live. Seeing her serenity, the priest filled the Cup of Life with water and gave it to her, telling her to give her son the water and he would awaken, whole and alive. The story ended with the son awakening the next day alive and well, to find his mother sprawled over him, dead with a peaceful smile on her face.

 

There wasn’t much known about the Old Religion. His people used to follow its designs, but soon branched off in their worship of Avalon and its power of resurrection. There were Druids though, that still practiced, who still dwelled in its most holy of places.

 

He had pulled down a map earlier, recalling parts of stories from the last time the questing beast had appeared, tracking its path and origin across both human and Druid lands. Now he read back over the story, reading closely about where the woman had gone. He didn’t know where many of the holy places of the Old Religion resided, but it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.

 

It spoke about the Isle of the Blessed, but he needed to figure out how to get there. He skimmed it again and found what he was looking for. The script was tiny and faded but spoke clearly: _‘Beyond the White Mountains, through the Valley of the Fallen Kings, to the north of the Great Seas of Meredor, is a lake. In its center lies the Isle of the Blessed, the center of all the Old Religion. Here lives the Priests and Priestesses of the Old Religion. Be forewarned, for anything asked of these great sorcerers comes with a price.’_

 

Looking at the map, he soon found his starting point. The White Mountains were the natural border between Avlin’s forests and the kingdom of Mercia, known for their whiteness all year round from unmelted snow. It was easy from then on to find the path. A day’s ride at most, if he pushed his horse. The lake on the map was small and the artist had drawn the isle in question, but had left it unnamed.

 

Satisfied with this knowledge, he looked up from the scroll. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, forewarning to a bright shinny day, the opposite of what the castle was feeling at the moment. He had no time to spare, and although he knew Lancelot would never forgive him for this, it mattered not. The spell was simple, laying sleep over the still slumbering Druid. He would not waken for some hours, enough time to get away and towards his goal.

 

He didn’t need the map, the image burned into his eyelids. He did snuff out the candles, to keep the books and the slumbering Druid from catching fire should the parchment on the low table catch. Looking back only once, he left at a fast walk, the castle stirring, only the servants up and about as they readied for the coming day.

 

None noticed his path, heading for Arthur’s rooms. It was blessedly empty, Gaius asleep in his rooms while Gwen left for a moment to fetch some more water. No one saw him enter, the door spelled to keep people out until he was done. Arthur lay on the bed, sleep fretful as he fought death itself. “Shh, Arthur. Sleep, you must keep up your strength.” The blonde quieted under his touch, turning unconsciously toward him.

 

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault. If I had only been quicker, this would not have happened. But I will fix it. There is a way to save you. Just hold on, Arthur. Hold on until I get back, please.” He leaned down, kissing him on his fevered forehead and stepped back. The prince was quiet, resting more peacefully. Nodding, he left, none saw him leaving the prince’s room.

 

~*~

 

Hooves pounded on the dirt path as he neared the lake. A day of nearly nonstop riding, only breaking when his horse needed it, had brought him here. He could feel the magic welling up, huge and fathomless, just across the stretch of water. He could understand the appeal of the Old Religion, could feel the seductive power trying to draw him in, but that kind of power came at a price, and he wasn’t sure he was willing to pay the price.

 

His last view of Arthur, weak and defenseless, fevered and close to death on his bed flashed through his mind and the doubt seeped away, leaving cold, determined resolve. If it was for Arthur, he was willing to do anything. He pulled his borrowed horse up, gazing across the waters of the lake to see the isle shrouded in dense fog.

 

The small jetty creaked ominously under his weight, but it held, allowing him to climb into the boat tied up next to it. A tattered piece of cloth hung at its back, an iron bell at is front cried mournfully with each peal, echoing across the still waters.

 

It only took a few minutes for the boat to cross the water, guided by his magic. As he drew closer, he could feel the magic get stronger. A moat surrounded the isle, carved stone arches crossing and recrossing over the water, guiding him to the entrance of the holy place.

 

The boat slowed to a halt as a gap in the stone wall appeared, black with shadows, stone steps leading up from the water’s edge. He wasted no time, climbing out, holding the stone wall for balance as the wooden craft rocked unsteadily at his movements as he climbed out, and letting the shadows of the stone stairway closed around him.

 

It was bare, much of the ancient stone structure in ruins after so long of inattention. Fog drifted lazily between obelisks, green grass turned grey by its presence, muted by the stone. There was no one around as he drew near a raised alter, heart beating rapidly as magic weighed heavily on his shoulders.

 

He turned, looking for any sign of the priests of old. “H-hello.’ He couldn’t keep the hitch from his voice.

 

“Hello, Merlin.” A low female voice said softly behind him. He spun, eyes wide in startlement. She was tall, almost as tall as him, skin pale, with dark locks hanging loose and slightly wild. Her eyes were an electric blue, shining with hints of silver. Wide red lips pulled up into a cruel smile, turning his blood cold. “You…”

 

“So you recognize me? Good, that will save us some time.”

 

“You were the one behind all of the things that have happened to us. Why should I trust you? You’ve tried to kill Arthur before, how do I know you are not behind this?”

 

“I did not know of your importance at the time I poisoned you. Besides, Arthur is not destined to die at my hand. Now it appears I will be his savior.” He didn’t know what she spoke of, but it seemed to ring true in this place of magic, as if it would not allow her to lie about fate and destiny.

 

“Who are you?” He demanded, clenching his hands as the Druid just continued to smile at him.

 

“I am Nimueh, High Priestess of the Old Religion. Wielder of life and death. I know why you have come, Merlin.” There was a flash and she held up a golden cup.

 

“Can you do it? Can you save him?” he demanded harshly.

 

“I do not have the power to mirror life. In order to give life, a life must be taken. There is always a price.”

 

“I know the price. Will you do it?”

 

“I will, if the price is met.”

 

Merlin nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “I willingly give my life for Arthur’s.”

 

Her smile seemed to grow at his declaration. “How brave you are, Merlin. If only it were that simple.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Once you enter into this bargain, it cannot be undone. If you willingly give your life for his, you will not be reborn…ever.”

 

“Whatever I have to do I will do. Arthur’s life is worth a hundred of mine.”

 

She nodded, holding up the cup. “The Cup of Life, blessed by centuries of powerful sorcerers so that it contains the very secret of life itself. If Arthur drinks water from the cup, he will live.” He took a step forward as she held the cup out, taking it from her.

 

Her head jerked up, voice crying out in the tongue of magic and the sky let out a rumble. Clouds converged, darkening the sky and releasing a torrent of rain onto them soaking him to the bone and filling the cup to the brim.

 

She took the cup back as the rain dissipated, pouring the blessed water into a flask. “A bargain is struck.” Her hand shot out as he took it, gripping his wrist in an iron grip. “I hope it pleases you.” She finished coyly, a smirk on her lips. Wrenching his arm from her hold, he left, not looking back as he went back to the boat.

 

~*~

 

The horse’s shoes sent up sparks as he clattered into the courtyard. Lancelot was already there, glaring at him, face a thundercloud of anger as he waited for Merlin to dismount. “What have you done?” He demanded harshly, fingers digging into Merlin’s shoulder, shaking him slightly.

 

“Savw Arthur.” He wrenched his shoulder free and set off at a trot, racing for Arthur’s rooms.

 

“Tell me what you have done, Merlin. What deal have you struck?” He kept easy pace with the pale Druid.

 

Merlin didn’t answer, just kept on going, upstairs and down halls until he reached Arthur’s rooms, flinging the wooden door open and barging in, startling Gwen who was sitting by his side, Gaius fixing some sort of potion nearby.

 

“Merlin…”

 

He ignored the physician’s worry, rushing over to Arthur’s side, climbing onto the bed. He lifted him up, sliding behind him to rest the prince’s head on his lap. Pulling out the flask, he opened it, easing his lips apart. “Come on Arthur, drink up. This will save you.” He said softly, pouring a little bit into his mouth.

 

For a moment, there was nothing and then he swallowed, throat working to force the liquid down. Merlin let out a sigh, pouring more, kept going until there was nothing left in the flask. He chucked it onto the bed, waiting, breath baited as he waited for Arthur to open his eyes.

 

It seemed to take hours, but was only minutes before slowly, the prince stirred. “Merlin…”

 

His voice was rusty from disuse. “I’m here Arthur. I’m here.” He said, bending down awkwardly to hug the man tight, shoulders shaking. The others edged out quietly, giving the two some privacy.

 

~*~

 

Lancelot was waiting for him the moment he reemerged from the prince’s rooms. “What the _hell_ have you done, Merlin?” He demanded, holding up the flask.

 

Glaring at him, he shushed him, dragging him down the hall to an empty room. “Answer me.” He yelled the moment the door was shut.

 

“You tell me.” He shot back.

 

“This…this flask is from the Old Religion. You struck a deal, offering someone else’s life for Arthur’s. Who’s life did you give so willingly to save him?” He was pacing now, waiting for an answer.

 

Merlin’s word stopped him in his tracks. “Mine.”

 

~*~

 

Chaos had broken out as news of the prince’s recovery spread through the castle. Merlin, after his yelling match with Lancelot, kept to himself, secluding himself in his rooms as the day wore on to night. He knew that the moment the sun set, his life was forfeit and no matter how much it pained him to keep away from Arthur, he thought it best to remain here until after.

 

Arthur would most likely never forgive him, but that was a price he was willing to pay so that the prince would live. So he stayed in his room, ignoring the occasional tapping, pretending he was asleep until eventually he did sleep, eyes heavy after three days of little to no sleep at all.

 

He didn’t even stir as his door opened in the night, Arthur creeping in, using the wall as support. He barely noticed the bed dipping, or the prince sliding in next to him, pulling him close.

 

He’d forgotten to cover the windows in his room and as the sun rose, the light got in, shining in his eyes, making him groan and turn over, burying his face into Arthur’s chest to block out the light. It took a second for it to sink in and then it hit him. He sat bolt upright, heart in his throat. He was alive. Arthur just groaned, turning over closer towards him, arms snaking around his waist to pull him closer.

 

They both jumped as someone started banging loudly on the door, Arthur sitting up with a glare. “Your majesty, Ambassador, come quick. Something has happened to the queen.” Someone yelled through the door.

 

~*~

 

The three sat around Ygraine, who lay in bed, all her visible skin covered in boils and sores, strength already failing. Rage boiled in his chest in a tight ball, ready to explode. He slipped out, leaving the three to watch over her, Gaius trying his hardest to cure her.

 

He ignored Lancelot, walking back to his rooms to pack. “Merlin, what do you think you are doing?” He asked, closing the door behind him.

 

“She cannot do this. I gave _my life_ for Arthur’s, not Ygraine’s. She thinks she can play games with me. I am done playing games. I will show her that doing this was a mistake she will forever regret.”

 

A hand landed on his shoulder and he spun, ready to strike Lancelot should he try and stop him. He stopped at the look on his face. “I’m coming this time.”

 

“Fine, do what you like, just stay out of my way.”

 

Their horses were ready by the time they came down, waiting in the courtyard for them. Mounting, they raced off. _‘Be careful.’_ Neither were surprised to hear Mordred’s mental voice calling after them.

 

~*~

 

“Back again so soon, Merlin.” She asked softly, blood red lips pulled up in a smirk.

 

“What have you done?” He demanded, stalking forward, Lancelot just behind him.

 

“I have fulfilled the bargain. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

 

“I bid _my life_ for Arthur’s, not Ygraine’s. You had no right to take hers.”

 

“The Old Religion does not care who lives and who dies. Only that the balance of the world is restored. To save a life, a life must be taken, you knew this.” She argued.

 

“It is not the Old Religion that has done this, it is you.” He raged, feeling his magic well up inside of him.

 

“Come now, we’re too valuable to each other to be enemies.”

 

“I share _nothing_ with you!”

 

“With my help, I could ensure that your _treaty_ survives.”

 

“ _I_ will make sure that it survives, that Druid and human live together and you will never see that day.” His anger welled up and over, his magic lashing out in a blinding flash of golden light.

 

Nimueh just smirked, holding her hand up and blocking it with ease. “Your childish tricks are useless against me, Merlin. I am a priestess of the Old Religion.” Her hand was moving in circles, fire coming to life in its path. She struck out, the ball of fire coming at him. He dodged and it demolished the stone wall behind him, leaving a gaping hole in the ruins.

 

“You, too, are a creature of the Old Religion. You should join me.” She coaxed, holding up more fire.

 

“You think I would join forces with such a selfish and cruel magic. Never!” He could see Lancelot was moving up behind her.

 

“So be it.” She attacked again, and this time he held his ground, his magic shielding him from the worst of the spell even as it flung him across the ground to land in a heap of limbs. His chest hurt, his clothing singed.

 

“Pity, together we could have ruled the world.” She said looking down at him. She turned to look at Lancelot. “You think you, a magicless Druid, can stop me.”

 

“I must try.” He charged her. She drew a sword from the air, easily parrying his blow. She moved into attack as he unbalanced and the Druid was forced to defend himself.

 

As the two fought, Merlin struggled to rise. He could feel his magic inside him, the feeling he had felt when he called upon his deepest reserves. Something seemed to click inside him and the words sprang to his lips, words he had only read once before. Standing up, he looked to the sky, the words rolling like thunder off his tongue. Lightening flashed in the sky, clouds gathering like last time. She had no time to act as Lancelot shoved her away and the lightning struck. They both ducked as she exploded, the spell destroying her.

 

~*~

 

“How’s Ygraine?” Merlin asked Arthur as the prince came into his room. None of them had said a word as Lancelot and Merlin had come back, covered in smoke and soaked with the rain that had followed them most of the ride back to Camelot. They hadn’t stopped to take shelter, instead, they kept going, Merlin keeping a shield up to block most of the rain. He was too drained to do much else and had fallen asleep the moment he had gotten to his room.

 

“She’ll live. Merlin, I want to thank you, for whatever it was you did. You saved me and my mother.”

 

“No, you would have done the same for me.” He shook his head, brushing off the praise.

 

“Still, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

 

“Go on with life…that or fall on your sword by accident, not sure which yet.” He replied with a smirk.

 

“Cheeky. Will you ever change?” He retorted, sitting down on the bed next to him.

 

“No, you’d get bored if I did.” He smirked, but said nothing more, just leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips with a laugh, and pulling the Druid down next to him.

 

** Epilogue **

 

Merlin shivered as another gust of wind rattled the glass and shutters of Arthur’s windows. The early winter blizzard had formed out of nowhere and was even now blanketing the land in white, freezing everything it touched.

 

They had the fire going as high as it could safely go and the bed was piled with wool and fleece blankets that the prince had gotten the servants to bring in from somewhere in the castle. At the moment, Merlin was curled underneath them, book in hand as the candles flickered in the cold draft that still managed to get into the room.

 

He and Arthur had decided a few weeks back that it would be simpler if he just moved his things in, instead of constantly going between both rooms. It would save fuel and time spent running between them for things forgotten. Lancelot, when informed of this decision had only raise an eyebrow, causing the younger Druid to flush in embarrassment, but kindly said nothing to worsen his embarrassment.

 

They had moved the other two Druids as well; housing them in one of the unused rooms near Arthur’s so that Lancelot would always be on hand should his charge need him. Mordred, being Mordred, had declared he didn’t need to share a room anymore and had taken the one next to Lancelot’s. They had found him the next morning, tucked up next to the warrior Druid, clutching at his night shirt in his sleep.

 

The door banged open as Arthur rushed through and quickly shut it, keeping as much heat as he could in. He leaned against the door for a moment, catching his breath. “What’s all the fuss about?” Merlin asked, setting his book aside, with his finger marking his spot, as he looked at the prince. Ygraine had called for her son earlier, saying she wished to speak with him.

 

He let out a pained groan. “You know how mother and Morgana have been in fits planning the union?” He nodded, dreading the answer. “Well, they finally settled on a date.”

 

“When?”

 

“Midsummer. Apparently, they’ve been doing some research, which means badgering Geoffrey, and found out about how midsummer is a symbolic day for magical unions.” He let out another tired groan. “Then they started talking about clothes and what they plan to make for us and I barely made it out of there with my masculinity intact, let alone my sanity.”

 

Merlin snorted and Arthur shot him a glare, pushing off from the door and stalking towards the bed. He quickly toed off his boots and burrowed under the blankets until his head appeared on Merlin’s chest, pushing the book aside and lying there.

 

Merlin let out a long suffering sigh, but set the book aside, running long pale fingers through his hair. Arthur sighed, wrapping his arms around Merlin’s waist, pressing closer to the Druid. “It’s getting closer. Are you ready?” He asked, and though his voice was calm, the sudden tension in his shoulders belied his certainty.

 

“I will go wherever you go, Arthur, be it into battle or to the alter.” He bent down awkwardly and kissed the top of his head. “Now either stop being melodramatic so I can get back to my book or go to sleep.” He gave a huff of annoyance, but complied, settling down as Merlin picked his book back up, fingers still carding through his blonde locks.

 

Outside, the wind howled, and battered against stone walls, but in the room, it was warm and secure, the two at ease in each other’s company and feelings. The day of their union was still some time off. They would worry later.

 


End file.
